Elective Amnesia
by AwwwCoffee-No
Summary: (ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED AT AO3) When a controversial case pits the daring ZPD duo against each other, will they fall prey to the same old rivalry that's plagued their species since the dawn of time? Or find a way to rise above their nature?
1. Prologue

The city was beautiful when it was like this; shady, mysterious and oh so dangerous with the thick storm clouds gathering over it. There might have been a metaphor for her own particular turn-on's in that statement, but she'd never admit it. Back home a large storm like this would have sent tremors of activity fluttering through the countryside as rabbits and sheep and foxes alike rushed around to prepare for the destructive reckoning of the elemental storm. Windows were battened down and warehouses sealed, the flat plain of the countryside rendering anything taller than the dry golden grass at risk of divine judgement. But here in Zootopia it was another story, with every building in the sprawling city competing for height with a sort of phallic symbolism, there were just too many targets for the storm to choose. And when the sky finally did, it always struck the lightning rods, pieces of metal tied to the highest points like a ancient princess that had been strung up to appease some vengeful leviathan in the hope of saving the rest of the city from its appetite.

And it did. It worked so well that the citizens had long forgotten to fear nature's power; they were no longer trained to feel a sense of dread. Natural instinct was replaced for something more complacent. She supposed she counted among that number now. She'd been away from the farm long enough that she didn't scurry away at the first dark hue in the sky, but instead walked out onto a balcony frequented by her smoking colleagues, just to watch it with a sense of awe. No, she hadn't forgotten how dangerous a storm could be. But she had learnt that it could also be beautiful, that those two adjectives weren't necessarily opposites. Something could be both.

Was this still a metaphor for her definition of attractive? She didn't know nor did she think about it as she heard a heavy door slam closed inside the hallway that led towards the bull pen. She mentally kicked herself for her little space out session. Nick was rubbing off on her.

For the past few weeks he'd been narrating his life out loud as if he was writing a trashy detective's novel, even before he'd been officially assigned to the department, and now she'd started doing it as well. Thankfully it was only an internal monologue in her case. Either way, she'd remind him of her annoyance later on.

For now, she quickly stepped back inside, thankful that the storm hadn't progressed past spitting whilst she'd been out and left her uniform, and fur, relatively dry.

Zootopia Police Department Officer Judy Hopps had been waiting whilst Precinct One's newest addition had used the locker room. Ever since they informed her of his return twenty minutes ago, she'd been eager to see him again, her partner. He was just changing into his dark navy blue uniform after three long days undercover and she couldn't be more pleased to have her best friend back.

Despite how well she knew him, he'd only been working at P1 (and as her partner officially) for less than a week. When they'd caught a lucky break by stumbling on an underground street racing ring whilst booking a speeding car, he'd quickly gone undercover. Disguised as a fellow street racer, he'd successfully infiltrated a major race and led the rest of the department in nabbing the entire group of adrenaline junkies. She tried not to think about the fact he'd spent more of his first week out of uniform than in one, and especially avoided any other thoughts of him being out of uniform. That would just be asking for trouble.

Officer Nicholas P. Wilde was many things, ex-con, red fox and general pain in the ass foremost among them, but he was not humble. She would never hear the end of it if her admiration became known. The fox was currently strutting his way down the hallway several meters ahead of her, unaware she'd ducked outside. "Hey hotshot," she said by way of greeting, 'hotshot' had been the name he drove under to infiltrate the street racing group that the sloth Flash had clued them into in exchange for getting away with only a fine. "Long time no see, partner."

He turned around flashing a smug smile, the russet fur between his ears still scruffy from his time away, "No need to be coy Carrots, you know you missed me." He said as she fell in beside him, taking solace in his familiarity.

"No, I actually got some work done without you chewing my ear off." He let her have that one with a chuckle and she knew the phrase 'dumb bunny' was being thrown around his thick skull. Amiably she added, "It's good to see you back in blue Nick."

"I don't know, the green really made my eyes pop." He brought his paws up to his emerald eyes and made a popping motion even as he said the words. She allowed herself a giggle before pushing open the doors that lead into the testosterone filled heart of the precinct; the bullpen. How she loved the place.

She was struggling not to bounce the length of the room to Chief Bogo's office, where they would report the success of their first official case together. It showed in the hyperactivity of her ears twitching back and forth at every sound. Nick would say she was too excitable about work. She'd tell him he was just lazy, but that was why they worked so well together. The opposite natures of ZPD's first rabbit officer and first fox officer duo balanced each other out. That didn't mean they wouldn't argue about it.

She was vaguely aware of being congratulated by the rest of her colleagues. Ever since she had outdone herself on the controversial Night Howler case she had received a lot more support from the larger members (which really just meant everyone else) of the ZPD. It had taken a little longer for her fox partner to be looked at with anything other than suspicion but this latest successful case had overcome that hurdle impressively. Nick's chest swelled, as did his ego, as he accepted their compliments. Whispering out of the side of his muzzle he told her "I could get used to this."

She gave him a smile but whatever she'd been about to say was cut off when the resounding booming voice of the Chief said, "Hopps, Wilde, in my office, now." The massive Cape Buffalo left the door open behind him as he disappeared into his workplace. Beside her, Nick swallowed hard in apprehension. The Chief sounded bad-tempered and angry like he was about to fire someone.

Then again, he always sounded bad-tempered and angry. So maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. But Nicholas Wilde didn't know that, after all, he'd just spent three months in the Academy, clawing his way to being the first fox officer despite prejudice. It wasn't surprising that he was still jumpy. Ha, jumpy, that was a rabbit's thing, a childish voice inside her said.

Regardless they stepped into the segregated work space, the gold letters on the door reading 'Chief Bogo'. There was no first name and for all she knew it could be Chief. It was as if the universe had taken the time to personally create him for the job. He was big, muscular and hardened. The strong head of the Zootopian Police force. But he wasn't a predator, so he didn't have a perverse instinct to use his strength maliciously. At least that's what the newscasts said; Judy had learnt the lesson the hard way that it wasn't just predators that you needed to watch out for.

His office was modestly small, everything inside was functional. There was no couch or posters or family pictures. There were two stiff-backed chairs in front of his desk so that a visitor wouldn't doze off and miss any information. There was his police academy diploma framed on the wall, so that people knew he had earned the position and not had it handed to him on a platter, to remind the officers that he'd been a rookie once. And there were no family photos. This was to let everyone know that his private life was in a word, private. When Judy Hopps first sat here, she hadn't understood any of its significance. She'd only seen the face of everyone she'd fought against to get there, the figure head of all the narrow-mindedness denying her dream. She knew better now.

She had to jump to reach the seat of the chair and Nick quickly joined her, even though there was another free chair across from her; the department had yet to incorporate furniture their size and Nick preferred to remind them by sharing a seat with her whenever possible.

If Chief Bogo noticed the slight he didn't dwell on it. He stared down at them for a moment before he spoke, "I'll admit I had my doubts about you, Wilde. Despite your involvement in the Bellwether case, I was cautious to let you onto my precinct. In your first week on the job, you have busted a major street racing ring and made our streets exponentially safer."

That... was very positive, which only made Judy more nervous. Chief Bogo rarely handed out compliments. Sure enough, he added, "But you did it without authorisation. Despite your success, you acted alone. And you have not been trained or cleared for undercover work, officer. Neither of you have.

"And now I have the powers that be breathing down my neck about sending you into a potentially dangerous situation unprepared. The news will twist it around so that it looks as if I did it on purpose, because you're a fox." Judy suddenly understood, with everything that'd happened with the Bellwether case predators were still given a sideways glance. Untrustworthy, the look said. But none were less trustworthy than foxes. The ZPD had made a point of openly supporting Nick's recruitment if only to relieve the hate the species garnered. Bogo continued with a wooden air, he was trying not to be personally offended by the implication. "I need to know the next time you two decide to go AWOL and make up your own agenda that you are ready to hand in your badge. Otherwise you better let me know what's going on before you are already balls deep in this mess. Am I making myself clear?"

Judy tried not to blush at the crude choice of words and nodded quickly. Even though the description was obviously directed at Nick, she knew she was also expected to agree. Hilariously they both chorused a "Sir, yes sir" simultaneously.

This seemed to please the buffalo because he dipped his head once in acknowledgement. However his expression never wavered from that of a concerned frown."Good. In light of your recent hours Wilde, you have the rest of the day off. Hopps, you as well. I don't want to see a hair of either of you until Monday morning when I expect your full report. You are dismissed."

It left them stunned, it was unheard of for the Chief of police to give anyone the day off for a simple open and shut case. Then again Nicholas had been technically on the job for the last three days, and Judy hadn't left the Precinct on principle. But the fox was already up and moving, never one to argue with time off, so Judy followed dutifully.

They made their way to their desk, numbed by the sudden expanse of free time dropped in their paws. A whole weekend to do what they wanted with, it was both a strange and terrifying thought, especially for the workaholic rabbit. What were they to do with such time? More importantly, what was she to do with her time? They were off the clock now, and Nicholas Wilde was allowed to enjoy his time away from the department and her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, she certainly wasn't sick of him yet. But then rabbits were perhaps more social creatures.

"Hey Cottontail, what are you doing tonight?" She was midway through clearing her desk for the night when he spoke, the charismatic drawl in his words more pronounced than usual. She raised an eyebrow at him and held back the small hope that was building inside of her.

"Nothing, you?" She hoped he asked to do something with her. Well, not something, that would be embarrassing, but maybe he wanted to hang out in a friendly capacity. She forced herself not to dwell on the other possible capacity.

He held up a paw as if to inspect his nails, giving her a smirk. At some point, he'd loosened his tie without her noticing. It always amazed her how he could make even a police uniform look lazy. "You know, this might be the first weekend we have free for a while. I was thinking we could go out for a drink unless you look down on that thought a thing."

Judy was caught somewhere between amusement and irritation and jumping for joy; ever since Nick had found out about her religious upbringing, he'd taken to treating her like a blushing teenager. He constantly asked if the slightest thing offended her catholic sensibilities ('Of course the bunnies would be catholic' had been his remark upon finding out). But she had to admit the gentle teasing was a good alternative to the one argument they'd had on the topic, due to him being an adamant atheist. And she wouldn't begrudge the chance to hang out with him.

Instead, she smiled smugly, crossing her arms and inflicting her words with that country girl articulation she'd worked so hard to remove during her time at the police academy, emphasizing the 'y' and 'a' sounds. "Why Mister Nicholas Wilde, you wouldn't be asking me on a date now, would you?"

He didn't blush as she'd hoped (not that it was easy to tell with his auburn coloured fur) but gave his most charming smile. "You couldn't handle me sweetheart, trust me. But if that's what you want to call it, go ahead."

She knew that a lot of people frowned on her friendship with the fox. And she also knew that a lot of people frowned on them individually. It was the kind of stigma that stuck around for a generation or two after it's been proven wrong. But her co-workers were used to them by now; they didn't raise an eyebrow at the banter that erupted from the predator-prey duo. She wondered if that should frustrate or gladden her, but instead focused on the silver lining. Even if the whole world hates her for it, she still has her best friend.

So she beams past the blush that settled on her cheeks and nodded her head vigorously, "Sure thing Slick."

The bar has a colonial feel to it, its spacious layout and comfortable decoration bringing to mind charming accents and golden coloured ales. She felt altogether too casual in only a plaid shirt and the nicer of her two pairs of jeans. She isn't wearing a blouse nor had she brought a matching jacket.

Nick had draped his Police issue jacket over her shoulders when they'd met at the front (despite her protests) and mentioned Clawhouser's name at the door to get them in ahead of the line. This pub was a favourite among police officers that the bubbly cheetah tipped them off too when they'd been leaving the Precinct. Apparently the staff liked police as well, giving them a discount and a place to relax after a hard day protecting the streets of Zootopia.

It was a good thing, she realised afterwards, because otherwise Nick might not have been let in. As it was they still got suspicious glances and hard stares from the other patrons as they sat down with their drinks. Or more specifically, Nick did.

Judy wanted to be indignantly angry, to yell at them and remind them that he was a citizen of Zootopia, same as them. But he gave her a warning look as she made to stand up. No Judy let this go, the look said.

She had surprised him by ordering a bloody Mary, but he quickly accepted that it made sense. Tomato juice and celery was apparently not a great leap from carrots. Nick himself had ordered a mid-priced scotch and was calmly nursing it when she voiced her question. She could sense his sleazy Private Investigator alter-ego about to make an appearance so she hurried to change the subject.

"I still don't see why I also get the weekend off. You did all the work on this one." She wasn't complaining, she was just making a point. She definitely wasn't complaining.

"You complain too much Hopps." Darn it. "You've put just as many hours in this week. I know that for a fact, so don't even try to deny it." He shook a furry finger in front of her to emphasize his words.

"Clawhouser ratted me out, didn't he?" She said indignantly.

He didn't even hesitate. "Yes, he did. To be fair, I bribed him with donuts." She crossed her arms. Backstabbing cat, he's lucky she couldn't stay mad at him even if she tried. He took another sip of the dark brown liquid and added, "All I'm saying Carrots is that you earned your weekend too. It wasn't all me out there."

She crossed her arms before answering, "All I did was sit around in the Precinct."

He scoffed at her, "Then who organised the arrest huh? Who had to inform the chief?" he tapped the bar's surface with each point, "Who willingly sat at a desk for three days listening to my wire, in case I needed backup?"

"No one else would volunteer," she protested, "especially after the first hour of you comparing every sunrise and suburb to something out of an old noir novel."

"Technically it would be 'hardboiled', not 'noir' since I'm a cop now." Darn it, she'd brought up the PI alter ego. He gave her a toothy grin, as she finished off her vodka and tomato juice with a long swallow. "Besides, I thought I was rather poetic."

"You compared Zootopia to a termite infested townhouse. I believe 'bright paint and oblivious advertisement hides the rotten decay evident below the surface' was the exact line you used. Francine was almost crying after five minutes." She told him.

"It's not my fault no one appreciates talent." He protested, "I just call it like it like I see it."

Anyone else she would have been angry with for the pessimism she'd had to listen to. But she knew Nick had done it in jest. Ever since he'd got back from the academy he'd been acting like a sleazy PI, stating he was a changed man now. She'd considered it a win when she successfully convinced him never to wear the fedora he'd bought again, although it had taken a great deal of threatening. Despite warning everyone to not humour him, McHorn had already taken to calling him Nick Tracy on a regular basis. "You can be a real cynic sometimes Nicky."

He shrugged under his Hawaiian shirt in that way of his, a blue one this time, and stood up. "I've got the next round."

Several of their other co-workers joined them later on, around 10 o'clock in the evening. Muttering something about celebrating Nick and Judy's first week as partners, another round of drinks was bought. At this point, the number of drinks Judy had already consumed was approaching the double digits. But she didn't argue when Clawhouser pushed a vodka-soda into her paws, knowing she'd probably regret it in the morning. Wolford, Fangmeyer, and McHorn also joined them for the merriment and soon they had to relocate to a booth in order to fit everyone.

But it only added to the celebration and soon they were actively trading war stories and singing drinking songs the likes of which Judy had never heard, but tried her best to mumble along too and failed ridiculously. In that moment, Judy had never felt so content, her years of ambition had finally paid off and she'd found a place among all the other tough-as-nails police officers, despite her diminutive size. She looked across to Nick and smiled so wide she thought her jaw might split in two. She also had a best friend that she would never have met if she'd given in to all the voices telling her she wasn't good enough. He returned her smile, albeit a little less drunkenly, and her mind rushed happily through the next hour.

The next thing she remembered Nick had his arm around her shoulders and was leading her out of the bar. Her euphoric mental state found it quite a pleasant feeling, pressed up against the warmth of his side. But he was only walking her home and she'd forget those thoughts later. For the moment it was enough of a struggle to match his pace. It was like an insane three legged race where their feet weren't attached and her mind was not up to the task of working out the rhythm. A shrew and a giraffe might have made better speed than they did. She realised she didn't know how far they had gone or even where they were.

She decided to ask but it came with heavy slurring, "Nnnnick, where arrre we?"

He looked down at her with an amused smile and chuckled. "We haven't gone more than ten meters Carrots, we're nowhere yet." Well, that's embarrassing, you stupid drunk rabbit. Not that she was a light-weight; it was just that she had a significant disadvantage in her body mass ratio.

Eerily she wondered if Nick knew where she lived, she didn't remember ever inviting her over or telling him where she lived. Not that she could remember an awful lot right now. "Do youu know the waay?" Was her immediate response but she was cut off sharply when she felt a great impact in her side. Numbly she recognised the sensation that made its way to her skull as pain. She cried out but she wasn't too sure it escaped her inhibited lips. There was a distorted sound hitting her overly large bunny ears.

She quickly surmised that she had fallen to the ground, her face pressed up against the cold wet bitumen. It was an uncomfortable texture and she heard herself groan at the feeling even as her hearing finally kicked in.

"...you think we're just going to let you walk away with your afternoon snack? You sick savage." came a deep yet surprisingly tinny voice. She also realised she could hear someone getting the wind knocked out of them.

Nick's voice was haggard as he offered, "No it's nothing like that. I'm with the ZPD, I was helping her home."

"Don't give us that baloney, we know better than to trust a fox." Came another voice, there were, at least, two people besides Nick and they were... Another sound of something hitting flesh. Cheese and crackers! They were beating him up. She had to help.

She somehow found the energy to push herself up and say "N-no stop. He's sayin' the t-truth!"

A sudden rustling of someone walking over, "What are you saying Cottontail? That he is a cop."

"H-he's my part-ner."

"Jake," the second voice called, "he's got a badge."

She was vaguely aware of another bout of arguing before footsteps thundered away from her. She hoped her friend was alright. When she was pulled to her feet again she looked around numbly. The blue and red in her peripheral vision told her it was Nick, curling her into his side again. She could almost believe she had imagined the whole thing; his body was just as warm and nourishing as before.

Except his breathing was off, exhausted and wheezy, in a way that poked at her subconscious. His gait was the most annoying, his steps mismatched and it took far too long for her to realise he was limping yet he was whispering reassuringly as they walked.

Her mind focused back on the argument. They'd attacked him, pulled him away from her because they had seen a fox and an intoxicated rabbit leaving together. They'd thought he had some nefarious goal with her. While she was grateful that their first instinct was to protect her, she also felt an overwhelming anger towards their prejudice.

Hero Complex was the term the police academy used for it. It was one of the most reoccurring causes for bar brawls. Generally, only evident in males, a young buck or other species might spy a girl being interacted with by another male. Then disguising their jealousy as heroism they commonly instigate a fight under the excuse of defending the lady.

Apparently it also applied to members of different species.

Never mind what the lady thinks, Judy thought to herself, the punks never thought to ask her first. It pissed her off. She wasn't just some token bunny. She could take care of herself, and it angered her that Nick had received the punishment. She was going to make sure he was okay, right now.

The thought disappeared as she was jostled to a stop. Nick dug the keys out of her pockets and fitted it into the lock before pushing the door open of her tiny apartment. When had they gotten onto a bus? They sure as hell didn't walk here. Also, when did they get inside the building? She must have been more intoxicated than she thought. He took a step inside before ushering her through.

"Good god Carrots, you didn't tell me you lived in a closet." He wrapped his bushy tail around her to keep her steady as he closed the door with both hands, relocking it immediately. "I'm going to have to start calling you Harry Otter and buy you a magic wand." He added snarkily.

But Judy was too distracted to offer a witty retort. In the alcohol induced haze she latched onto one fluffy detail, Nick's tail wrapped around her. Her paw came out to stroke the red furred appendage up and down. Good god, it was so soft and warm.

Wait did she say that last part out loud?

Nick was chuckling, "Who are you calling soft?" Okay, she wanted to die now. "You're a bunny, that's practically the definition of soft."

She pouted, "Big mean fox, picking on a little ol' bunny." But her tone was light. And when his tail unwrapped from around her, she dazedly tried to follow it before his paws were on her shoulders directing her to the bed. Falling face first onto it, she let out a contented sigh. She hoped he would join her so that she could cuddle up to that tail again.

The sound of a hinge opening behind her and a dull thump caused her to groan in irritation. She rolled onto her side to see Nick holding out a water bottle.

"I'm not thirsty." She lied if only to be allowed to drift to sleep sooner. Her throat was dry, but it was too much effort to rehydrate right now.

He shook the bottle. "Drink it, or else you are going to hate me in the morning."

"I'm starting to hate you right now." She grumbled under her breath and obliged, bringing it to her lips. The sharp refreshing coldness was enough to bolster her mind towards a single thought. She passed back the water and reached out to place a grey paw against his russet coloured arm. She waited until he met her violet eyes with his green ones, only now noticing his bloodied snout.

"Jesus Nick, are you alright?" she didn't bother keeping the worry out of her voice, her long ears flattening backwards against her skull.

He shrugged, "I'm fine Cottontail. It's just a bloody nose, look it's already stopped bleeding."

"I'm sorry Nick, I'm sorry you had to go through that." She said but was promptly surprised when his paw came up to squeeze her lips shut. He pulled away after a moment, satisfied to have her attention.

"Judy don't, please just don't. We can talk about this later, you need to rest." His voice was warm and commanding and his presence soothing, so she wasn't surprised when a yawn escaped her. She would think about the other reactions she had to his presence another time because now she just wanted to sleep.

Unable to argue, she just laid back and muttered, "Tomorrow then." She hoped he heard the silent invitation to join her. Because they would talk about it tomorrow, she'd make sure of it. Because she knew how Nicholas P. Wilde handled this sort of thing. He'd slide on a mask and pretend he didn't care. Her eyes drifted to sleep with the determination to keep that promise.

She awoke alone with a headache and no memory of the night before. No memory except that Vodka had been involved. And a new realisation that Vodka was the devil's drink, not the Tasmanian Devils mind you, but the devil that she'd been warned about in church as a child.

She was glad no one else was in her apartment as she stood up and went to the tiny bathroom to answer natures call. Afterwards, she made her way to the kitchen area of her apartment, it was no more than a fridge, microwave, and sink but she'd bought the other necessities needed to survive. She turned on the kettle and retrieved a mug. She wanted to sigh in despair that she only had instant coffee and not even a pot but even that level of enthusiasm was painful.

But she still didn't remember after her morning coffee, instead slipping back into bed tiredly.

If it upset her that Nick seemed a bit distant for the next week, she didn't connect the two and just chalked it up to Nick being Nick. He may have been a bit stiff but she had seen where he lived, it wasn't surprising. He literally lived under a bridge. But she had been looking out for him and constantly reminded him to find an apartment.

She wouldn't remember it until weeks later, closer to two months to be precise. She'd only recall the events when a simple patrol turned into a case that threw a curveball at her vulpine friend and threatened to tear them apart.


	2. Chapter One

_... seven weeks later. 11:30am_

ZPD Officer Wilde, Sahara Square.

Nicholas P. Wilde adjusted the mirrored sunglasses further on his muzzle. The sun was blindingly obtrusive and he wanted to groan, like a happy little go-getter that couldn't get the hint that you just wanted to sleep. Yes, here's looking at you Carrots. But he didn't complain because his partner would have another go at him for being a wuss. Even in the obsessive heat of summer, she was disgustingly cheerful and energetic, unfazed by the warmth. And she was covered in just as much fur as him, so how come she could cope? Maybe it was that whole 'I grew up on a farm and got the proper daily dose of vitamin D' thing. Acclimatization, that was the word for it.

"I still can't believe that worked." She snorted as she took a tentative sip of her coffee. They'd just finished their breakfast, and they'd be damned if they didn't get their daily caffeine intake regardless of the thermostat. It was incidentally also what had brought up this conversation.

"I don't see why not, I wouldn't need it if I wasn't doing the work." He said before he continued panting. It was a habit entirely outside of his control, belonging to the canine family had its own agenda. Who cares if dogs and foxes had evolved since their non-anthropomorphic states to have the ability to sweat, they still couldn't help panting when the heat of Central Zootopia rivalled that of Sahara Square.

Judy gave him a look that could only be described as indignation, her jaw quivering up and down before she spoke. "But you don't see the rest of us insisting that the department pay for our coffees."

"You simply don't get it Carrots." He waved her off with a paw, "you aren't nocturnal."

She gave a chuckle and crossed her arms. "Of course, now you want to play the species card."

Ooh, that was a low blow. He wanted to snap at her that everyone else did when it came to him, but he bit his tongue and schooled his expression. Judy didn't mean it like that. Heck, she didn't even remember the night he got roughed over by those two goons outside the bar. But then again, he'd made a point of not telling her. He hadn't even told anyone else in the ZPD for fear that word would get back to her oversized grey ears. Instead, he'd bitched to Finnick about it and politely refused when the little fennec fox's offered to bash the heads in of the chumps with his baseball bat.

He took a sip of his own coffee and instantly regretted it. His body filled with too much heat too quickly and his panting doubled in intensity. How did Carrots cope with it again? Acclimatization? No there had to be some bunny superpower involved. He could ask her. Instead, he asked a less potentially touchy question.

"Are you saying I shouldn't get compensation for my added hardships?"

She actually sputtered at that. Jesus, she was just too cute. Her paws came up as if she could physically grab an argument logical enough to finish this conversation, before moving to her ears and pulling them down in front of her eyes. "It's- That's not the point. You're just doing this for yourself, Nicholas Wilde. It's-it's immoral."

She used Nicholas, she was definitely grasping at straws. It just made her all the more adorable, but he'd never say that to her face because she'd kick his ass before he could even finish the word. Instead, he controlled himself long enough to smile toothily before delivering that one line bound to drive her crazy without literally killing him in the backfire.

"It's called a hustle sweetheart." Bingo, he didn't bother dodging the jab to his shoulder. He'd rather use the energy to rub his sore arm and offer an excuse. "Besides, Fangmeyer backed me up."

If anything it looked like that annoyed her even more, because she let go of her ears and just rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. He'd say the headrest, but her diminutive height only set her head at chest height, even with the booster seat.

He could tell she was still just playing along because there was a faint smile on her bunny lips. "He knows better. I've told everyone a bazillion times not to encourage you."

Nick smiled. It was an exaggeration but it wasn't far off. It had almost become a part of the weekly memo; ' _everyone is hereby warned to not encourage Officer Wilde for the sake of Judy's sanity'_. He knew Chief Bogo would probably still do it too, just to side against Nick in something.

He was just about to make a remark about 'not getting the memo' when there was a burst of radio static, signalling an incoming transmission. A second later Clawhauser's giddy voice chimed in.

" _Hopps, Wilde come in."_

Nick reached over and grabbed the microphone first before clicking the button. "This is Officer Nick Wilde and his sidekick Hopps reading you loud and clear, what have you got big guy?"

Ignoring Judy's expression of outrage he depressed the push to talk bar in order to hear the reply.

" _I just had a call in. Are you still romping around Sahara Square?"_

"We sure are."

" _A computer shop down on Onyx Avenue just called in a 211. Over."_

Nick shot a look at Judy and a moment of understanding passed between them as they recalled their academy training. 211 was code for robbery.

"In progress?" He asked. They didn't have the gear to launch a siege. Hell, Nick wasn't even wearing a vest. In his defence, it was way too hot for the Kevlar clothing today.

" _Negative Nick. The owner, a Mr. Thumper, found the place broken into an hour ago."_

Judy gave him a nod before turning the engine over. The squad car gave a deep purr as she started it up. That was enough confirmation for Nick to answer the large cheetah on the other end of the line, Judy's long ears twitching to listen. "Roger that Ben, Onyx Avenue, we're on our way. We'll report in later. Officer Wilde signing out."

They were already pulling into the street as he returned the handset to its hook. After a moment, he flashed Judy a grin. "Aren't you glad I got us a free coffee now, Carrots?"

She let out a short laugh, her grey paws tightening around the wheel as she took a turn. "You are unbelievable Nick."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

" _You_ would. Still," Nick raised an eyebrow, this would be good. What insult had she come up with this time, it was almost exciting to find out what her little bunny brain could cook up. "of all the things you had to complain about, you chose coffee?"

"How is coffee not important?" He said indignantly.

She gave him a 'you're such an imbecile' look and sighed. "If you're going to whine to the brass (for the record Nick Wilde doesn't whine), why don't you choose an actual hardship. Like the furniture, I'm sick of having to stand up in a chair designed for a rhinoceros." She said before trailing off.

Nick allowed a grin to light up his face, showing off his canines and feeling his triangular ears perk up. Persecution of smaller species by furniture. That actually wasn't a bad idea for a complaint. Hell, they might get a couch their size in the break room. One small enough that only they can use, it would be perfect. As if reading his mind Judy tore her purple eyes from the road long enough to narrow them suspiciously in his direction. Her tone is chastising as she points a threatening finger at his snout. "Don't even think about it, Slick."

"Don't even think about it, Slick."

When they pulled up a crowd of pedestrians had gathered. The curious mammals of the surrounding neighbourhood had seemingly flocked to the burgled computer shop like flies to a body, eager for their latest taste of drama. The oppressive humidity only strengthened the imagery of a rotting corpse being feasted upon. Gods he hated them. And the heat, he definitely hated the heat. But he could already anticipate the multitude of helpful statements exploring how many different ways you could say, 'I didn't see anything, but I knew deep down in my gut that something was off' or 'that (insert victim's name here) is a good person, I don't know why anyone would target such a kind mammal'. He knew that besides the owner, the rest of them wouldn't have anything of importance to tell. But they'd have to interview them anyway, and waste precious time. Out in the heat.

"Don't go Nick Tracy on me this time, Wilde, or I will use the taser." Judy warned him from her seat as she drank the last of the coffee she'd never had the chance to finish. He was beginning to suspect she really could read his mind. That or they were spending way too much time with each other.

In Nick's defence (Man, he was really saying in his defence a lot, Judy would tell him he wouldn't need to if he wasn't always guilty of something), he had a reason for the hardboiled narration. It was practice for when he wrote his auto-biography about an ex-crook turned gritty boy in blue, constantly at odds with a system that beat him down and enamoured with a partner that expects something more than just a hustler. It would be a best seller, he was sure. And make a lot of dough. It was even legal.

Instead of reacting to Carrots' jibe, he looked around where they'd parked. The block of five or so buildings shared a large joint car park, with the shops on one side or the grey bitumen and a line of palm trees that separated on the other. The foliage formed a barrier in between them and the bustling highway. He was willing to bet the owners had paid extra for the privilege of having, supposedly, clear access to the highway, the large shops signs intended as free advertisement to those trapped in their daily commute.

The chumps, they didn't realise that when the drivers and passengers looked to this side of the road they saw nothing but the palm trees; they certainly didn't see the buildings beyond. The block itself was as an oasis of isolation, no one used their services unless they lived close by. Even then, it was only when they had no other choice.

He looked around to read the names of the five shops. The one they wanted was smack bang in the middle. Large tacky white letters above the doorway read ' _Thumper's Tech and Repairs'_ as if it would actually compel anyone to walk in.

A thought struck him. "Thumper. Is that a-." He began to ask his partner.

"A rabbit name?" she finished, as she took her seatbelt off. "I think so." Nick barely resisted the urge to groan. Even so, Judy caught on, her ears pinning back as she narrowed her gaze. "This isn't going to be a problem is it Nick?"

Well it wasn't going to be easy. But the fox couldn't say that out loud without sounding like a bigot. Or worse, a hypocrite; especially in light of the press conference during the Bellwether case where he'd fallen out with Judy because she made a generalization about predators. He couldn't tell her stereotypes existed for a reason, or that, other bunnies put a lot more stock into that whole 'foxes are our natural predators' junk. She wouldn't buy it.

No, Judy Hopps was a professional. She expected the same of him in return.

So he swallowed his misgivings and gruffly answered before stepping out of the car, "Not at all."

The bitumen was blistering beneath his feet and he tried not to dance across it as a result. He fell in beside Judy, she was technically his superior and fought against the urge to hang his tongue out and pant. He pulled a ZPD issue baseball cap onto his vulpine skull. Not because he was worried about sunburn, it wouldn't show up under his red fur, but because he wanted to reinforce that he was in fact, a cop.

It wasn't enough he realised as he forced his way through the crowd, working as a pedestrian-plough for Judy who walked in his wake. When they finally got to the front of the mob Judy knocked sharply on the locked door. Not that the locked door could do a lot; the front window was smashed in. But it probably wasn't worth bringing it up. Not when Judy would just elbow him in the ribs for it, which she didn't know were still healing; he'd cracked a few that night at the bar. Instead, he calmly leaned against the door frame and cast a wary look back over the crowd.

"Mr. Thumper, this is the ZPD. Open up." She called and rapped her paw on the door again.

It was only a moment before a diminutive figure opened the door a crack, looking Judy up and down. A second later it swung the rest of the way to reveal a young brown rabbit in grey slacks and a red polo shirt with the shop's logo printed over his heart. He was perhaps an inch taller, even if her ears were a touch longer.

Judy tapped her badge twice as she introduced herself, oblivious to the young buck ogling her like she was the last doe on the planet. "Mr. Thumper? I'm Officer Hopps of the ZPD. May we come in."

The brown furred bunny of twenty-something years managed to find his tongue long enough to step back to make a path inside. "Of course." It was only once Judy had stepped passed him that he registered her exact phrasing. "Wait, who's _we_?"

"That would be me. I'm her partner, ZPD Officer Wilde." It was evident he hadn't noticed Nick, because when he did, he all but fainted. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, the two long brown ears springing up like parallel stripper poles. Not that Nick had personal experience with that imagery.

"Y-you're a-a..." the poor bunny was stuttering so fast it sounded like he was talking through a fan.

"A police officer? Why yes I am." Nick supplied helpfully, knowing full well that was not how the sentence was going to end. He took only a little satisfaction from intimidating the bunny.

Judy looked between them, a wary look on her face. "That isn't a problem is it Mr. Thumper?" Her tone of voice sounded hopeful like she really believed he might have frozen for some other reason entirely.

But he hesitated too long, that was admission in itself. Instead of taking the chance to roll his eyes at Judy in an 'I told you so' moment, Nick cleared his throat. It drew both bunnies attention but his green eyes met Judy's as he said, "It's not. Mr. Thumper has just had a stressful day. Hopps, why don't you get him a glass of water and see what he knows, I'm going to secure the scene and work the crowd." They'd gain nothing by arguing over this. Besides it was not like it was a new experience for the russet coloured fox.

Judy's eyebrows rose up in surprise and her grey ears drooped a little. He could tell she wanted to argue if only to make a point. But he held her gaze, giving her a look and shaking his head so slightly only she'd pick up on it. _Drop it Carrots_ , is what it said. He left no room for debate.

So she nodded because she knew he would only brush her off in public anyway. "Let me know if you need any help, Nick."

He gave a nod of his own, raising two fingers to his brow in a casual salute before turning. There was a rule he'd followed since he was a kit that continued to come into play even now; 'never let them see they get to you'. It's what he repeated to himself as he answered with an informal "Yes ma'am."

So he closed the door and turned back to the ever curious crowd. Great, he'd be stuck out here in the blazing heat. But he couldn't comment on that in front of all these people, who were already badgering him to know what was going on (in one case there was even an actual badger).

When the voices got too much and he felt like he was going to snap at the overlapping words, he donned a professional facade and held his arms up for silence. Slowly, enunciating and projecting every word so he would not have to repeat himself, he informed them of his agenda.

"Alright, as of now, this is a crime scene. My name is Officer Wilde and the first thing I'm going to do is secure the perimeter. Afterwards, I would appreciate anyone with any information regarding the break-in to come forward so that I can question you individually, one at a time. If you have somewhere else to be I will take your name and contact number to call on you at a later time. Otherwise please find somewhere in the shade to wait until you're called. I would like to thank all of you in advance and ask that you do not go within ten meters of the shop front. That is all."

With the crowd pacified, Nick walked back to the patrol car and retrieved the yellow crime scene tape from the backseat. He finally allowed himself a groan of frustration before returning to the shop front. It was a mess, glass littering the inside of the computer store and leaving a jagged whole where the thief broke in. As he anchored the tape on the far side of the door he reflected on how lucky the intruder was that they didn't cut themselves climbing through. Nick made a tutting sound at the crude work, it was just sloppy.

Sure, he'd engaged in his share of theft back when he was younger, but he'd never done anything as outlandish as this. Unless he could sneak or talk his way through a job, he'd flat out refused any such schemes. He'd still had thefts go wrong, but he never actively sought out trouble. He was a fox sure, but he wasn't a dumb one.

He was torn from his musings by a flash of red in the corner of his eye. He paused halfway across the wide broken display window, a large vicious shard jutting from the frame in front of him. It was the perfect position for an intruder to cut himself climbing past it. But it wasn't blood caught on the very tip or the opaque material. It was a tuft of fur.

Of course, there were plenty of animals with red fur. Tigers for example. Red pandas, squirrels, and orang-utans were other possibilities. But Nick didn't need a forensic report to know that wasn't the case. He had enough evidence on the passenger seat of the car, or in his apartment and fuck, even his own body.

There was no doubt about it.

There, right in front of him like a big sign shouting 'I know who did it' was fox hair.

 **Author's Comment:** Because I forgot/didn't know how, I'll place this here instead of the 1st chapter. I'm assuming if you've read this far that you are still interested.

This is all part of a larger series that I originally/am still publishing over on Archive of Our Own. If you want a more constantly updated/more active thread to this story, the link is /series/439879


	3. Chapter Two

_11.52am_

ZPD Officer Hopps, Sahara Square

Nick had once confessed his worst childhood memory to Judy. It had been on a cable car ride over the Rainforest District and the torrential rain had died down to just a drizzle, serving as a mirror to Nicks melancholy mood. It was the first time he'd been anything but his nonchalant self in her presence. The first time he'd been anything but the Nick Wilde she knew. And it was terrifying when she realised that this side of him always been there, was always there but like the rain, it had been too inconsequential to acknowledge. When she tried to reassure him, he shrugged it off but she never forgot the Nick of that moment. It had been a closely guarded and broken Nick she'd seen that night.

And now it had emerged again. There were no more charming smiles or light ribbing. Judy tried not to be frustrated at the brown haired rabbit in front of her, still staring star struck at the door where Nick had disappeared from. He was the one who'd brought back that version of her partner and she could throttle him for it. Even though Nick acted like it was nothing, Judy had fully expected an 'I told you so' to escape his lips. When it didn't, she grew worried. Because at least if Nick had made a joke out of it, she would have known he was enduring. Instead, he had used the excuse to escape, even going so far as to defend the rabbit's fear and throwing a figurative lifeline to the drowning Mr. Thumper. But Judy read between the lines and saw that mask he wore, ' _I'm Nick Wilde and I don't care. Look at how much I don't_ care' it said. But it was a veiled masquerade, Nick Wilde did care, had always cared. With that realisation came her overwhelming anger at the bigoted ball of fur in front of her. No one was allowed to make her partner feel like that.

But another voice spoke up, that same voice that had allowed her to outfox a fox as a kitten. Mr Thumper is the victim of a crime, it said, and she was a police officer. Professionalism Judy, you've got to keep it professional. So she pulled out her notepad and carrot pen and clicked the mechanism pointedly.

"Mr. Thumper." Despite her best efforts, her tone was still a little flinty. The devil's advocate in her told her that was a good thing, he wouldn't be allowed to get away scot-free.

That seemed to get his attention, because he turned to her. Even if he was still in that flight or fight mode, his muzzle quivering and his ears erect, he was paying attention to her now. She had to force herself not to be snarky, not to call him a wuss.

Instead, she remembered what Nick had said and sighed, allowing her frustration to escape with the air. "Do you need some water Mr. Thumper?"

A moment's pause. Then he snapped out of it completely. His foot rapped the floor in a fluttering tattoo and he stuttered. "Y-yes. I'm sorry sir- miss! It just came as a bit of a shock is all. I hadn't heard they were hiring foxes into the police force. I'm dreadfully sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologize to." She gritted out. What was it her mother taught her as a child? If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. Today was proving to be an exercise in that practice.

He seemed to deflate a little at that until a sound reached them. Both his and Judy's tall lagomorphic ears twitched at Nick's voice. They could hear him through the broken window assertively handling the crowd. She felt a burst of pride for her partner; he wasn't letting it affect his work. He was still being the good officer that she knew he was. She'd buy him dinner as a reward later, she decided.

Oliver Thumper was also listening. Whether he was guilt-tripped by the fox's professionalism or he was trying to impress Judy, she didn't know but he let out a long shaky breath, "You're right."

Judy wasn't sure what to make of the admission, it changed nothing, so instead she followed the buck further into the store. She took the moment to briefly analyse the severity of the damage. Thumper's Tech & Repairs was, for a polite word, wrecked. Nick would have gone for the less civil description starting with a colourful letter F, but Judy had a far more stern upbringing. That's not to say Nick's adjective would be wrong, glass littered the stores carpeted floor and Judy had to double check where she walked to avoid injuring her bare paws. Racks of cheaper computers, keyboards and phones had ended up on the floor when it was decided they were not worth stealing. The more expensive gear however had disappeared without a trace, leaving two shelves empty of even so much as a flash drive. The bad guy was evidently savvy enough to know what to take.

Thumper stepped behind the counter and up to an old fashioned water cooler, the bubbles climbing it's inside as he filled one cup and raised it to his lips. He held up a clean Styrofoam cup and asked, "Can I get you a drink Officer... Sorry, I've forgotten your name."

It was safer to play along than to make a snarky remark. If Bogo heard that his star rabbit officer was bullying other bunnies, Judy wasn't sure what reaction she'd get. "I'd appreciate it Mr. Thumper. And the name's Hopps, just like it says on the shirt." She'd neglected her uniform vest today, the heat was barely manageable as it was without extra layers, and her name was printed in clear block letters over her breast.

If Thumper noticed the sarcasm he didn't discuss it. Instead he paused midway to holding the cup full of water out to her. Then he cocked his head to the side, one of his ears drooping ridiculously in curiosity that drew a smirk from her. She hoped her own expression of interest wasn't so childlike; Nick would never let it go. "Hopps? Would you happen to be _the_ Judy Hopps by any chance? First rabbit officer?" he asked with city pronunciation that reminded her of Nick.

"That's me."

His eyes seemed to bug at the conformation. If anything he looked more surprised than he had with Nick. "Wow, I just got to say that I'm a real big fan. You're a real inspiration, showing everyone that we little guys can be taken seriously."

Judy Hopps had heard a multitude of such comments in the last five months. It no longer brought a blush to her cheeks. But it didn't mean she didn't appreciate it. As Nick reminded her the one time she complained about all the attention, this was why she'd become a police officer; to make the world a better place. If that meant making smaller mammals feel more secure, that was fine by her.

"I appreciate it Mr. Thumper, I really do." She said politely before switching back to the subject at hand, "But I am kind of on the clock at the moment. What can you tell me about the robbery?"

"Please, call me Oliver." Judy nodded but didn't make a reply. She was here to do a job, not fraternize. The shop owner rubbed the back of his neck, deep in thought before he continued. "I can't tell you a lot, it must have happened last night because when I got here to open- well, you can see."

Judy certainly could, she started scribbling details in her notepad. "What time did you arrive Mr- Oliver?"

"Around ten o'clock, I was running late this morning." He explained.

"Did you call the police right away?"

"Yes."

"Did you catch them on camera?" She had noticed at least three cameras along the ceiling of the small business, she hoped they weren't just for show.

"That's the problem. Whoever got in here turned them off and made off with the footage. I've got nothing." He actually looked depressed that he couldn't offer more. Judy felt a pang of sympathy; sometimes the crooks were smarter than you. Her first meeting with Nick was one such example. There were still flakes of dried cement showing up in her apartment five months later to remind her.

She gave a sigh, before tapping her pen to the pad again. "Alright Oliver, tell me exactly what was stolen."

It took five minutes to detail the entire missing inventory. An impressive amount of computers, laptops, ipaws and audio equipment had been stolen. She added to the tally the till money left overnight and she rounded out the total value to...

Sweet cheese and crackers. It was a good take, even for a small time store. She'd check with Nick about it afterwards but she knew his ears would shoot up at the number.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" she asked when he'd finished. "Any idea on who might of done it?" She knew it was unlikely, this crime had been pulled off with a masterful talent. There was no evidence inside to incriminate the perpetrator but then she'd already suspected they'd worn gloves. Evidence was severely lacking and she would probably have to rely on Nick's underworld contacts to discover who was fencing the loot. Still there was no harm in trying.

"Actually, I might have an idea." Judy's ears shot up and her eyes zeroed in like purple lasers onto the brown rabbit in front of her.

She couldn't stop her voice betraying her excitement, "Really?"

"Well it's just a suspicion really," he was once again rubbing the back of his head and Judy wanted to slap him out of the habit. Was she the only one who appreciated getting things done. But she waited him out. "I had a shady looking guy come around a week or so ago. Just came in and said he was browsing."

Judy's nose twitched in annoyance. "Why is that suspicious?"

"He's been hanging around in the carpark since then. I caught him a few times under the palm trees, just watching the place."

Scoping it out. He didn't say it but he didn't need to. It was common MO for criminals to scout out targets before committing the crime, the academy had drummed it into them. The criminals rarely returned to the scene of the crime, but they certainly paid a few visits beforehand. It gave them a chance to see what they were up against, cameras, locks, alarms and other defences. It sounded like he'd spotted their perp. Then why was he so hesitant.

"Is there anything you can tell me about him? Name? Age? Height? What about colour or species?" She spat out the questions in a rapid-fire beat, her curiosity peaked.

"Umm, I never caught his name. And he was young I think, maybe in his twenties and about four foot tall..."

"Oliver, it's alright. You can trust us." She was starting to get anxious just from his hesitation, "What is it?"

But something had already clicked in her mind, something that didn't make sense. Why was he so nervous talking to her, another rabbit and a police officer. He'd been so scared of Nick. But what if it wasn't because Nick was a fox. Instead, maybe it was because of the suspect.

Even when she realised it, it was still a blow when Oliver Thumper finally found his tongue and said, "He was a fox."

When they find him he's interviewing an old badger sow, nodding his head deftly as he scratched on the notepad in front of him. His ears are folded back and he's gnawing at his lower lip with his left canines as he continues his marks on the lined paper.

Judy's anxious about his possible reaction. She had no idea how their lead suspect's species would affect him. Despite the stereotype that foxes were all scheming felons, Judy had yet to come across a member of the species in any sort of professional capacity. That is beside Nick and his friend Finnick, who'd become a fixture in her day to day life when he started chauffeuring Nick to the police station. This would mark the first time she had to go after a fox in her career (again besides Nick). She found herself sorely hoping there'd been a mistake of some sort.

After she'd found out, she went half a minute before responding in defence of her partner. "Oliver, you can trust Officer Wilde, he's sworn an oath the same as me."

At that the rabbit had looked properly abashed, "I know, it was stupid of me."

After a few more back and forth's with him, where Judy tried to be indignantly peeved at him but fell closer to unwillingly sympathetic, she'd excused herself to search the crime scene. As she'd thought, there was literally no substantial evidence inside the shop except for the tool of entry; a common or garden brick. Nothing so much as a pawprint showed up under her scrutiny but she documented it and it's placement before securing it in a Ziploc bag.

When she'd finished she'd gone back to the brown furred buck and moved to get some water for her partner. Surprisingly the young male had refused, insisting that he be the one to bring Nick refreshment. That's how they found themselves exiting the relative coolness of the shop, stepping under the yellow crime scene tape, and waiting until Nick at finished his interview with the badger. They waited until she disappeared from sight before Nick looked up at them his ears perking up at the sight of the cup of water in Oliver Thumper's paws.

"Mr. Wilde, I'd like to apologise." The rabbit said as he handed Nick the cup of water. It was already halfway to Nick's lips before the fox registered what was being said and he froze, his eyebrow slowly climbing up towards his ears in question. "I'm really sorry for my behaviour before, I didn't mean to offend you or make you feel like less of a police officer."

In truth, Judy had not seen that coming, but now she positively beamed. Maybe Oliver Thumper wasn't so bad after all, it was understandable why he'd feel nervous reporting a fox-perpetrated crime to a fox police officer or his partner. All was right with the world, the misdeed had been amended. But Nick was still frozen, and his eyes shifted to glance suspiciously at Judy before he lowered the cup. No one else would have noticed but Judy could tell that his tone was slightly wooden as he said, "I assure you that is not necessary Mr. Thumper, but thank you for your concern. This isn't my first day with a bushy tail after all."

It was a moment before he added, "Excuse me, but do you mind if I talk with my partner in private. It's about the case."

Oliver smiled genially, clasping his paws in front of him. "Of course officer, I'll just be inside if you need me."

It wasn't until the door had closed that Nick slung his head back and drained the cup in one vicious gulp. When it came away from his lips, empty and crumpled, he was panting from the heat. She pretended not to notice the lines of sweat around his muzzle or the marks it made in his shirt but found herself feeling incomprehensibly guilty that he'd been stuck outside for almost an hour.

At least, he'd been properly apologized to, she thought. There was a silver lining. Hopefully, that might begin to soothe the burn that years of Zootopia's distrust had caused. When he seemed content to keep panting she decided to bring it up, "That was nice of him wasn't it?"

His eyes glanced at her for a second and she could literally hear his teeth grind for a second. "It sure was Hopps."

Not the reaction she was hoping for. Where was his snarky humour? Looking around the now empty car park, she latched onto something else to say. "Where's the rest of the witnesses? Do you want me to interview some of them for you?"

He nodded towards where the badger had disappeared, "That was the last of them. Rest went home."

It was starting to get uncomfortable now and Judy was running out of things to discuss that weren't that discussion. She wanted to avoid talking about the suspected fox as long as possible. After all, there was a chance it wasn't the fox, right?

Thankfully she wasn't the one that spoke next. Even if it was far too gruffly that he asked "Hopps what did you find inside?"

She took a short breath before listing off the actual evidence she'd found, counting it off on her paws, "The brick they used to break in, glass everywhere and half the stock gone. No camera footage."

She didn't know what she expected his reaction to be, but it wasn't a bitter nod as if her partner had expected such all along. Again her well developed hearing picked up the sound of his teeth grinding together as he hesitated. It was as if he was struggling with the urge to lie to her. Whatever the argument churning through his mind was, the truth seemed to win out.

"Come along Hopps, there's something you need to see." He was far too cryptic. But that wasn't what was bothering her. She realised that ever since the moment in the shop earlier when Oliver Thumper had panicked in front of Nick, her partner had been exclusively referring to her as Hopps. There was not a trace of his usual teasing, and she was starting to notice the lack of endearing nicknames. She knew he'd first referred to her as Carrots and Cottontail with the thought of emotionally distancing himself, but it had long grown to be a token of fondness and she found she missed it (even if some of the nicknames tiptoed the line of racism).

Now he was purposely keeping things formal, keeping all emotions in check. Why did that make her think it was a coping mechanism? Or maybe he was enforcing his identity as a police officer?

Regardless she followed him over to stand in front of the broken display window where a particularly jagged glass shard jutted from the frame, like a wicked claw erupting from the paw of a jaguar. But that was all there was, no evidence to be seen. She was about to ask what was so important when he held out an evidence bag in front of her. Inside was a tuft of red fur.

She'd spent enough time around Nick to immediately recognise it as a fox's. But what did that have to do with the case? "Nick I'm not following-."

"I found it caught on the glass." He hesitated, even though Judy's mind was already connecting the dots. "Whoever broke in left it behind."

She was relieved, she hated to admit, but she wouldn't have to break the news to Nick. Then her body was flooded with a new emotion; pity. She reached out and laid a paw on the red fur of his forearm, ignoring the sweat that clung even there. "Oh, Nick. I'm so sorry."

But he cut her off, just like he did that night in the cable car. "We'll get forensics to test it. They'll be able to make a positive identification."

"Of course." She mumbled. There was still the faint chance they were wrong, that there had been a mistake. Maybe the fur wasn't from a fox. Maybe Oliver's suspect was innocent. She kept telling herself they couldn't make assumptions.

So they finished investigating the scene before bidding farewell to Oliver Thumper. They left him with their contact numbers and the request that he call them if he thought of anything else before walking to the patrol car.

As she opened the driver's side door and hopped inside, all doubt flew from her mind. Looking over to Nick's seat she saw the accumulated hair that had fallen from his thick coat. The last few weeks of Summer had been hell for her partner, who had longer fur than most mammals. Truly the only creatures that had it worse were the sheep. It made days like this when they were trapped in the hottest quarter almost unbearable and Judy felt bad for not refusing the assignment. Besides the intense sweating, dehydration and panting he was already going through, Nick also had to deal with another unattractive biological result; shedding. As the weather heated up, Nick was losing his old coat and more than a bit had ended up in the car.

She knew he was embarrassed about it and had caught him cleaning the car and his desk daily after work in an attempt to stave off the topic. Regardless of the last time he'd vacuumed in here, a sizable amount of fur had again built up. By the end of the day there'd be enough to make a fox-fur rug, she thought, maybe Mr. Big would buy it. And with such a large amount in front of her there was no denying that the hair in the evidence bag was identical.

There was no doubt about it. They were after a fox. And Judy had to trust her partner to do the right thing. As soon as the thought came up she laughed, the thought was ludicrous. Her and Nick were on the same side. Weren't they?


	4. Chapter Three

**_...The next day, 6.00am_**

 **ZPD Officer Wilde, Precinct One.**

ZPD's Precinct One building was unlike almost every other building in the sprawling metropolis. It was wide and flat, an orange plateau of concrete and glass that took up the whole block. Nick often wondered who the architect was and whether they were paid for it. They shouldn't have been. It looked like someone had taken Pride Rock from 'the Lion King' (Nick had watched it on the history channel, and yes it had been illegal cable) and given a troop of elephants free rein to use it as a trampoline. Any overtly large holes had been filled in with glass and explained away as 'natural lighting' before charging ten G's extra. And they called Nick a crook.

Regardless it had become Nick's home away from home in the last two months, so misgivings aside he walked in. He'd regret it. There were two new rules Nicholas Wilde would learn that morning; one was too never arrive early at the precinct, and two was to never give your honest opinion of Pop music to Ben.

The former wasn't because Nick was not a morning person. He wasn't, but that's beside the point. It was because so many other people were. Namely one Benjamin Clawhauser, the Precinct's mascot (Carrots had refused the title on the grounds that she wasn't cute. She was, but arguing the point with her was like arguing with a sleeping baby, it was counterproductive and you'd rather use the energy to appreciate the quiet), receptionist and dispatch. What the hell was he doing at work so early? It was as if the guy never left the building, or his ass was glued to that chair. Take your pick. Both were equally plausible. When Nick walked through the doors at 6am the big spotted fur ball was there, as flamboyant and chipper as ever. He exuded an aura that was horribly uplifting yet positively depressing at the same time. Or maybe only Nick felt that way, he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless he was quickly roped into a conversation with the guy.

Which is where the second rule came into play; Benjamin had just downloaded the latest Gazelle single. As Nick walked past the reception desk, his feet moving like a zombie in a cheesy 80's horror film, the chubby cat called out. "Hey Nicky," Nick tried not to let out a groan as he lifted his head to stare wearily at Ben, "you're in early."

Besides Nick, Ben was Carrot's best friend in the ZPD. Heck, he was everyone's best friend in the ZPD. Except Nick's, he didn't hate the guy but they weren't besties. He tried not to ponder over that revelation. Nick decided that being snappy with the cheetah was only going to get him an earful from Carrots and maybe a punch in the arm. Instead, he plastered a fake smile and showed off too many teeth. "Sure am. I'm just so excited for another day at work."

The cheetah was jolly, not stupid. He raised a critical eyebrow which said the words 'you must be kidding me Nicky' without him ever having to move his mouth. Nick let out a sigh; he used to be better at lying. "I couldn't sleep. What about you Ben, how's your morning been?"

Benjamin Clawhouser's face flashed with sympathy for a split second before he lit up again. "Oh, I'm so glad you asked," he said in a voice so cheery that Nick knew he wouldn't be, "Gazelle's new single released last night. Have you heard it yet?"

"Don't think so." That was definitely the wrong answer.

"No matter, I've got it right here. Have a listen." Before Nick could object the big cat had turned the volume up on the computer and hit the play button. His ears were almost immediately assaulted by a staccato beat of electronically enhanced instruments.

Admittedly Nick was a little biased. He wasn't much of a Pop fan. Given the chance he would always choose Jazz; the smooth note of the saxophone, trumpet, and double bass was soothing to his ears. The fact that the songs rarely featured the singer repeatedly moaning into the microphone instead of actually singing was another blessing. _Oh, oh, oh , oh Try everything?_ To Nick, there was nothing worse than what sounded like someone's climax being recorded and put through auto-tune. But he wasn't about to say that to Benjamin Clawhauser, the chubby cheetah who was currently swinging his head back and forth to the tune. Eyes closed, a finger of each paw joined his skull in the rhythmic sway, acting so much like a pendulum that Nick wondered if he'd have to physically halt the cheetah's movement even after the song ended. Thankfully it didn't last much longer, the song fading away with a few more repetitions that roughly translated to 'you were still a good person, even if you're not'. Seriously who bought this crap?

Ben did. He stopped moving as soon as the song ended; leaning forward to rest his multiple chins on his paws. His eyes were wide, animated as he looked at Nick expectantly. "So... what do you think?" he practically purred with enthusiasm.

None of the things he thought were particularly friendly. Or child appropriate, which meant they weren't Carrots or Clawhauser appropriate. Instead, he watered it down until it was the vaguest truth. Shrugging with his hands stuffed in his regulation blue trousers he said, "It's not really my thing."

Another wrong answer.

The bubbly, flamboyant and friendly animal he knew was suddenly rather intimidating. Nick only now remembered that this guy was a predator, and had the sudden urge to run. Like an alligator rising out of the murky swamp, the aggressiveness that hid beneath Ben's cuddly exterior made an appearance. From the happy brow arrived a narrowed eye ridge, and from his massive neck, Nick saw a strong jaw bone jut out, tightening as if it was a noose being slung around the fox's neck. He had a feeling any moment now the enraged cheetah would yell 'Heresy!' and the rest of the ZPD would jump out of their hiding places carrying pitchforks and torches, Judy front and centre.

"Not your thing? How is that even possible?" Ben's hands were a blur as they raged in front of him, "that doesn't make any sense!"

Nick held up his paws in surrender. "I think we just have different tastes in music."

Don't know when to stop digging, do you slick? If he ever hit rock bottom he was sure he'd ask for another shovel. The damn cheetah's eyes bulged as he froze mid-rant, turning to glare at Nick like he'd just spotted a succulent gazelle (the species not the singer), or possibly a donut. "Are you telling my Nicholas Wilde, first fox officer of the Zootopia Police Department, that _you_ do not like Gazelle?"

To be fair, Nick had liked her last song, 'try everything'. Well liked might be too strong a word. Tolerated, maybe? But that wasn't the point, and he had already hesitated too long because Clawhouser's was looking ready to kill. His eyes were dark beads of concentration and Nick suddenly wanted to tear his way to the bullpen or the break room. He had a sinking feeling that despite this cheetah's appearance, he could be fast when he wanted to.

He was saved by the bell. Well, technically the bull. His ears twitched and he snapped his muzzle up and around to stare at the third floor, where Chief Bogo had called his name. Jesus, does everyone live in this joint. If he hadn't physically seen proof that she owned an apartment, he'd expect Judy Hopps to be sitting at her desk, like the bright and energetic unofficial mascot she was (because she _was_ cute), even now. The massive Cape Buffalo's arm was pointed towards the bullpen, and the offices, on the other side of which lay the Chief's little room. But Nick saw the situation as a ladder and used it as a way out of the impossibly deep hole he'd dug himself. He casually said the chief needed him as if the large cheetah hadn't heard it himself. Then before he could get a response, he scurried down the atrium to the bullpen like the frightened fox he was.

To be fair, he didn't know what the Chief wanted from him this time. Probably not to sing his praises and hand him a medal. But Nick hadn't done anything bad lately. Or at least he hasn't done anything worth mentioning, bad being such a subjective term. It was only once he was standing outside the old stained door that he realised it might be for the Thumper Burglary.

Nick had always wondered about the door. To him it represented the enigma that was Chief Bogo. It had a hard rough aesthetic, plain looking but the square window set into the top half of it was frosted. To prevent prying eyes. Or to keep a mysterious privacy. The only thing that marred the milky white perfection were the two words. 'Chief' and 'Bogo'. Nick being the curious fox he was, had asked everyone in the Precinct about Bogo's first name. Nobody knew. He'd found that hard to believe but his instinct told him that no one had been lying. He supposed he could hack the database to find out, but that was a mystery for another time. He knocked out a short three beats on the wood before hearing the usual response. "Come in."

The buffalo was already sitting behind his desk when Nick enters. It's a second before he realises the intercom light on the old phone that had probably been there since the Precinct's construction was on, indicating the Chief was talking to someone else. Nick wondered if he knew them. Another second for Clawhauser's voice to crystallize in his ear, "and he said 'it wasn't his thing.' Like how is Gazelle not everyone's thing? She's the greatest hero of our time."

Bogo looked up with a pointed eyebrow at the fox that slunk into one of the chairs. His voice was deep yet placating when he said, "Alright Clawhauser, I'll have a word with him."

He tapped a button with his hoof to end the call. Cracking his thick neck to the side loudly he focused unerringly on Nick. Despite himself, Nick gulped. Surely the Chief wouldn't be so petty, but he remembered the buffalo had attended Gazelle's last concert with Clawhauser, so he obviously was a fan. Then again, it wasn't like Nick and Bogo were on speaking terms, especially after Nick had taped the words 'CHIEF BUFFALO-BUTT' over his door. (It was a full day before the big guy noticed. The aftermath hadn't been pretty.) So maybe he would be so petty.

"Chief, I would like to explain." He started quickly, "I'm more of a jazz guy-."

He was halted with a single raised hoof. His voice was eerily calm and confident as he spoke, something that didn't put the ex-con at ease. "Officer Wilde, everyone is entitled to their own opinion." A beat later he added, "Even if it is a stupid fucking opinion. But that's not why I asked you here."

"Shit, you were asking? Didn't know I had the choice." Nick was despite himself, smirking. Contrary to their dislike of each other, the Chief and Nick had their own type of banter. Probably not as friendly as his back-and-forth with Carrots, and definitely with a lot more cussing, but it worked. Nick could even say he didn't hate the guy. Sometimes.

"Hilarious Wilde, you should be a comedian." The buffalo was completely deadpan, "But enough with the pleasantries."

From the table, the buffalo picked up a plastic Ziploc bag. Nick recognised it, of course, he fucking recognised it. He was the one who'd bagged the evidence; a little tuft of red fur that he'd almost hidden from Judy. He'd actually contemplated destroying the evidence. Then again yesterday, when they'd returned to the Precinct, Nick had separated from Judy to take it to Forensics whilst she went to get them lunch. Again he'd been sorely tempted to accidently dispose of it along the way. But he'd quelled the traitorous thoughts and handed it over to the horse in the lab called Colton. The mammal had raised an appraising eye at him as Nick explained its connection to the case; even the horse had known it was fox fur. "What can you tell me about this, Wilde?" Bogo said presently.

He hesitated, was this some sort of test. Prove your loyalty officer, say the words. Most of them, at least. "It's fox fur, sir."

"And..." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. What more was there to say, for crying out loud.

"It isn't mine." The Chief raised an eyebrow, "And it was found at the Sahara Square robbery, probably left behind by the crook."

"Is that all?" The Chief knew, fuck he knew. Of course, it wasn't all. Nick knew almost everything worth knowing about the owner just by getting a sniff of the fur. Foxes were very territorial, hence, why normally you didn't see a whole lot of foxes in one neighbourhood(there were exceptions), and they were designed biologically to read potential rivals through the smells left behind. So yeah he knew more than he let on.

"The suspect is male. Young just reached adulthood. Non-smoker but frequently interacts with others who do. He also recently started courting a female that he sees regularly, but is not yet sleeping with. Oh and he works two jobs, or at least works a job and studies elsewhere. Regardless one is physical, I believe it's dishwashing, and the other involves extensive use of pen and paper." He said it all as unemotionally as possible. The Chief for his part looked neither impressed nor surprised, and Nick wondered (not for the first time) how much interaction he'd had with foxes previously. It was a little-known fact that foxes actually had a better sense of smell than dogs. Only wolves were on par with them but they could not distinguish the different scents the way foxes did.

Nick watched as the Chief picked up another item off the desk, the evidence report. Reading it over once, the Chief looked up. "Forensics confirms as much, although there is no mention of the love interest and the second job. Also, his DNA isn't on file. But my question is, if you knew about this, why didn't you say something sooner?"

Nick slouched a little in his seat, there was a reason. But it was not exactly something he wanted to let the Chief know about. "It's not exactly a science, Chief. I wanted forensics to confirm it before I spouting theories. They're hardly going to hand out a warrant based on a predators instinct, especially that of a fox." The last part came out bitter. But he wasn't going to apologise, even the Chief was biased against his species. The buffalo had been attempting to make amends since Nick joined but the memory of their first meeting in the Rainforest District was still seared into his memory like a brand. He remembered Chief Bogo telling Officer Judy Hopps that he was never going to trust a fox and ordering her to hand over her badge. It was a sour reminder that burned and festered and kept.

Carrots might forgive and forget but Nick wasn't her. He wasn't a saint like Judy Hopps, despite the fact he wore a uniform.

The Chief of the ZPD softened a little, by which his shoulders went from tense to merely up tight. "That's true." There was a moment's pause before he started again, he seemed to be hesitant. "When I was a rookie officer, I had a case like this. A new player to the scene was dealing narcotics on a scale unheard of at the time and my partner, another buffalo, and I were put on the case. Weeks were spent chasing down leads, and they kept coming up short. It was like they disappeared the second we started looking for them. I was so frustrated that I almost gave up, there were no more leads to follow. But there was this boar, an old face on the streets that was known to frequent the area where these deals were going down. He got word to me that he'd seen who was behind it all and set up a meeting."

"But then there was this boar, an old face on the streets that was known to frequent the area where these deals were going down. He got word to me that he'd seen who was behind it all and we set up a meeting."

Despite himself, Nick leaned forwards. This was the closest insight he had ever gotten regarding his boss. But he could sense the proverbial other shoe waiting to drop. "What happened? Did he get cold feet?"

Chief Bogo let out a chuckle, "No, he was there. In a dumpster with a bullet through his skull. The dealer got to him first." Nick's ears slunk back but he wasn't overly moved. He'd heard so many stories on the street of people being whacked because they knew too much that it became a fact of life. If you got involved in the wrong shit, you were going to get shot. Sure it was unfortunate, but it was also practical. It was why so many foxes, weasels, and hyenas (the three most common species of criminal), are so sure of themselves. Because if they over-estimate their abilities they wind up dead, if they under-estimate themselves then they get nowhere. The only alternative is to be confident without being boastful. "But that in turn gave me the break I needed to catch the guy."

"You traced the bullet?"

A nod. "To a .38 police standard issue snub-nosed revolver. Customised to be operable by hooves."

"It was a cop?"

Another nod. "There were only two ungulate police officers on the force at that time. Me and..."

It clicked home like the hammer of a pistol, sending the answer shooting out of Nick's mouth like a bullet. Fuck it was, "Your partner."

Another nod, this one was accompanied with a tightening of his jaw. "Yes, Officer Caffer was behind the murder and the drugs. He and I grew up together. Went to the same school together. We'd been best friends for as long as I could remember, were even in the same class of the police academy. And suddenly I knew that he was dirty, that he was a murderer."

"So what did you do?" He knew the Chief was waiting for the question. He reckoned he already knew the answer.

"What needed to be done." There was no bravado in those words, no boasting. It was the hard truth; he didn't want to do it, but he'd done it anyway. "I arrested him and four months later he got the chair."

"Jesus fucking Christ." Nick couldn't hold back the grimace, his ears pulling back against his skull at the thought. But he didn't say he was sorry for what Bogo had to do, he wasn't the sort to offer false apologies. He had a feeling the buffalo wasn't the thought to accept them. But it was a fucked up situation, choosing the job over your friend, your species. Nick didn't envy him, he wasn't sure he could make the same call.

Suddenly it dawned on him. His face betrayed that fact.

Bogo put his hooves down on opposite sides of the bag and report, framing them in between the unbreakable will of the ZPD. "Exactly. I have one question for you Wilde, and I'm only going to ask it once. Can I count on you to do what needs to be done? Or do I need to pull you off the case."

Nick's anger flared like a flame doused with gasoline. How dare he? Did he even know what he was asking? For Nick to go against his kind. He'd been this fox six months ago, willing to do anything to make a buck and survive another night on the streets. Now he was meant to turn tail and collar that which he'd once been. He wanted to snap at the buffalo that he had no idea what he was asking, that if it wasn't for ZPD Officer Judy Hopps he would be the exact same.

Then he calmed down almost instantly, of course, the chief knew. That's what this little jog down memory lane had been about. The Chief understood completely. Fuck, the buffalo had probably already guessed why Nick was in early, why Nick couldn't sleep; the nightmares that plagued him. Nightmares that reminded him how he was nothing but a crook playing dress up. The dreams that tell him how easy the roles could be reversed. That's why the Chief asked, because he was the only one who could? The only one who understood fully when he asked whether Nick would hunt down another fox.

Would he though? When they found the fox in question, would he be able to arrest him. Sling the cold metal cuffs and throw him in jail for a crime that Nick could have been guilty of less than a year ago. It was the lowest form of hypocrisy, turning traitor and attacking your own for the things you had also done. It made him sick to his stomach. But he'd sworn an oath. Not an oath to the city. No, when he gave his pledge to become a cop, it had been to Judy. The one person to believe in him since his mother.

He owed it to her to be a good cop.

"I'll do what's needed." He grunted, every word feeling like a weight had been placed on his shoulders.

The Chief didn't give him a thumbs up or a 'good work Wilde', but just nodded. He knew it wasn't something to celebrate. "Then I have no further questions, you're dismissed."

As Nick stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind himself, he had an epiphany. He thought he understood Chief Bogo a little better now. It wasn't about having a private office or eating lunch with the mayor or yelling at green rookies. Staring up at the golden letters hanging above him, they didn't look so much like laurels. Now the word 'Chief' was the albatross around Bogo's neck. This is what it meant to be Chief. You had to make the tough decisions, ask the tough questions and bare the consequences. You had to test your people's integrity, honour and commitment even if they were your friends. Especially if they were your friends. If they fell short, you were the one who put them down.

And maybe that was why you didn't put your name on the door. Didn't call them by their first names. You couldn't allow the intimacy that such a thing provoked. Because you didn't want to make friendships if you lived every day knowing you might have to break them, and your heart along with it. Maybe it was easier not to have friends when that was the alternative.


	5. Chapter Four

_**...8.56am**_

 **ZPD Officer Wilde, Precinct One.**

He was on his fifth coffee when he returned to his desk. It looked bitter and black but on closer inspection you could smell the excessive sweetener that he'd. It's not that Nick Wilde had a sweet tooth, but he understandably couldn't enjoy his liquid breakfast without its nectary goodness. He huffed, at least, his sidekick (and yes she was _so_ his sidekick) wasn't here to rib him for it. Speaking of which, checking his phone he read the clock, it was almost time Carrots arrived. So he sank into his seat, determined to see the look on her face when she realised he'd arrived earlier than her. Hopefully, there'd be quivering lips and tears of joy that her little fox cop was finally growing up. It was going to be priceless.

A paw resting on his notes, he spared enough time to nod mutely at Officers Delgado and Grizzoli as they walked past. The two feline officers raised an eyebrow at the fox's unusual attendance but continued on their way to roll call. Nick supposed he should follow them, regardless of the fact that he didn't want to be in a room full of loud heavy weight class mammals. At least, he wasn't the smallest member in the force, he reminded himself. That honour went to Carrots, who was coincidentally the fiercest of them all. It had been agreed in a non-rigged election by the rest of the P1 team, during the same conversation that they'd elected her the unofficial Precinct mascot. Both were done without her knowledge, for separate reasons. One was because they didn't want her getting a big head and the other was so she wouldn't kill them in an adorable fury driven rage.

Not that there was anything wrong with being small. As his friend Finnick always said, 'it's not about the size of the fox, it's about how you use it'. Incidentally, Finnick had various regular vixen acquaintances, so maybe there was some truth in it after all.

Pulling his notes into a loose stack he decided to take them with him. The weight of the words he'd typed on them seemed almost unbearable as he trudged into the small room known as the Bullpen. In reality, it was more like a classroom, the bullpen should really refer to the offices he thought. More like it was the buffalo bull's kiddie pen to house all the children until he could decide what to do with them each day. The air was saturated by the smell of coffee, fur and the musk of the various animals that made up Precint One's patrol officers. Nick avoided breathing through his nose so he wouldn't identify the other aromas in the air. He didn't want to know. No one needed to know those things about their fellow officers. For example, the fact that one of the polar bears sweat stank of steroid use and that one of the tigress's was wearing a lot of perfume to cover up that she was in heat, were not things you wanted to have burdening your conscience. In another time he might have used that knowledge for blackmail, to get favours. But he was turning over a new leaf. He was trying to be a good cop. For Carrots, he'd be a good cop. So he sat down in the chair he and the bunny regularly shared, depositing the notes on the table in front of him. McHorn briefly glanced over them.

"Is this Nicholas Wilde, doing paperwork willingly? Well, I'll be damned. Did Hopps twist your arm of something?" His gruff raspy voice sounded.

Hilarious aren't you, you big lout. Regardless, Nick adopted an easy air, "It's for a case."

If the big rhinoceros had any opinion on that he didn't mention it. Thank fuck for small miracles. Nick wasn't in the mood to listen to everyone's opinion on him hunting a fox, especially after the talk with the Chief. But then again Officer Joe McHorn never struck Nick as the prying type. He did, however, ask, "So where is the bunny?"

Nick had left his phone at his desk. It wasn't a habit. He'd honestly forgotten it. He swore if his head wasn't attached to his neck, he'd resemble French royalty at the end of the eighteenth century. The rabbit in question was probably in the atrium. Either waiting for him or furiously calling him again and again because he was late. Not this time Carrots. To the rhino, "I have no idea."

The big guy looked back over his shoulder at that and his leathery eyebrows raised a fraction. Nick resisted the urge to do the same. "I do."

"Where the hell have you been Nick, I called you like five times." A familiar shrill voice said from behind him.

"Speaking of the long-eared devil." He muttered to McHorn. He had no doubt Carrots heard him with her super bunny hearing. Then he turned to her and his grin was kind of maniacal as he teased, "Hey look its Carrots! You're late, what will the Chief think?"

For a second she looked genuinely scandalised, even if roll call hadn't yet started. But only for a second, a second that he memorised for later. Then she's scowling like the violent little energizer bunny from hell that she is. Not exactly the look of doting pride that Nick expected to receive for being early, "I was waiting for you. Why didn't you answer my calls _fox_?"

Ooh, she used the F word, she must be annoyed. Nick made a show of patting his pockets before raising his arms in an 'I don't know' display. "I must have left my phone on my desk. I'm just such a klutz, I swear if my head wasn't attached to my neck I'd..."

"You'd lose it." She finished as though she was going to order said furry red head gone, regardless of its attachment to his neck. But the expression changed in a blink. It finally seemed to dawn on the grey bunny. She paused halfway through pulling herself onto the chair beside him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Nick wasn't late. He was early and rule one of the Precint One handbook was that the fox was never early. On time, yes. But he was never early. You could practically see her doubting everything she ever knew to be real by watching her ears twitch. "You're early." It came out as a whisper as if the very mentioning of it would bring about the end times.

Nick couldn't help smiling at the cute little face she was pulling. Imagine a kitten trying to work out if an adult was lying to her. Purple eye's narrowed, teeth worrying lips and muzzle scrunched up in confusion. The expression was the same. She was really too cute sometimes, but once again she could throttle him senseless, so it didn't pay to let her know that. Instead, he picked her up by the back of her shirt and helped her into her seat. "I thought I'd follow your example Carrots, early rabbit get the carrot and all that."

She pointed a finger at him sternly, but her lips curled up in a teasing smile. "If you're up to anything Nicholas Wilde, I will spray the break room in fox repellent."

Before Nick could adamantly protest, after all, this time, he wasn't up to anything, the Chief walked in. With his usual intense governance, he silenced the cacophony of the thirty-something police officers and started handing out assignments. It was business as usual, there was nothing surprising. Fangmeyer and his team were in Tundra Town, the only place in Zootopia that wasn't blisteringly hot right now. McHorn and two others were taking Savannah Central. And so on, everything was as it should be. There was not even a lingering gaze from the ZPD Chief when he told Nick and Carrots to continue working on the Sahara Square robbery. Nick understood the implied meaning; their conversation never happened.

Being reassigned the case usually meant it would likely be a boring day in the office. Hours spent pouring over evidence reports and theories. Typically Nick would slack off and enter a half-awake half-asleep catatonic state, letting Carrots take over the paperwork. It wasn't entirely fair but it was easier. The bunny could read a whole page of writing in the time it took Nick to finish the first paragraph. And she was frighteningly impatient. Instead, he'd let her absorb page after page of witness statements and other evidence and she would bounce ideas off of him. She likely thought it would be the same today as they got up and moved towards the offices, aka the real bullpen.

But today was different. Nick had already retrieved and read the full reports from forensics in the three hours he had to himself. That and he'd typed up the reports on the witness statements, which predictably all said "I didn't see anything but I knew something was wrong when I got up this morning" or some iteration of the sort (he should have put money on it), in the attempt to avoid scrutinising the notes he'd made himself using his 'instincts'. Now he kept them close at hand, carrying them with him as if they were a hard earned prize that would disappear once he let go of them. Judy eyed them wordlessly as they walked back to their shared cubicle, her ears cocked upright was the only trace of a question.

Judy eyed them wordlessly as they walked back to their shared cubicle, her ears cocked upright was the only trace of a question.

"We need to go see if Forensics is done with those reports." She said as they reached the space their two desks shared. It was a study in opposites. On one side lay Judy's desk, pristine and proper, the ideal surface of a teacher's pet. There were no loose papers on her desk or pens lying aimlessly about. There was a picture of her parents framed in one corner and a landscape of her countless siblings in the other. A newspaper clipping about the Bellwether case was pinned to a corkboard and a ZPD calendar kept track of the days. Nick found the whole look disturbingly lifeless. Like no one actually used it and it was a prop on a movie set. Cardboard and inert. No one should be that perfect. Or maybe that was just his excuse for not putting in equal effort. It was a question for the philosophers.

Nick picked up one of the many files littering his desktop and held it in the air. "Beat you to it, Carrots." It was understandable that she didn't see it first. His desk was a mess of case files, stationary and coffee cups. But there was a method to his madness. Depending on which pile it was placed in, he could tell what type of crime it pertained to. Fraud? Top left corner. Robbery? Bottom right pile. If it was open it was an ongoing investigation. If it was at the bottom of the pile it was an older case. The one time Carrots took it upon herself to tidy his mess and file everything in a cabinet, Nick spent five minutes counting off the alphabet on his paws to the tune of 'twinkle-twinkle little star' in order to retrieve one case file before she apologised. There were no pictures, he couldn't think of any he wanted at work. Finnick wasn't exactly a welcome topic of discussion among the straight-laced members of the ZPD and his mother was a memory reserved for his eyes only. He'd thought of putting up a selfie he had taken with Carrots but he could always just turn and look at her if he needed an emotional pick-me-up.

He used to have his own calendar, though. But after barely a week with it up, Chief Bogo ordered it to be taken down. 'Vixen Weekly's 2016' was apparently inappropriate for a workplace. That and Carrots couldn't stop blushing and hiding her face every time she spotted it. His argument that in a job where you dealt with the worst examples of Zootopia constantly, there was nothing better than a scantily clad woman to keep you emotionally healthy, fell on deaf ears.

"Cheese and crackers Nick, how long have you been in here today?" Judy asked as she took the manila file from his paws and hopped into her seat. "I thought foxes were nocturnal?"

"Oh now you're playing the species card." He admonished mockingly even as he made a motion of checking his phone. Yep, there were five missed calls from Judy. He shrugged, "Only a couple hours."

A single ear twitched towards him while her head stayed buried in the cardboard dossier. Multi-tasking. Of course, that was just the sort of thing Carrots did. "Working on the case?"

"It's not like there's a lot of other things to do in this place."

"Hmm, showing initiative." She looked up to stare at him, her ears slapping back in the most solemn expression she could. "Alright who are you and what have you done with Nicholas P. Wilde?"

Her laughter was contagious, and he found himself chuckling along. "You got me. Sly bunny."

"Dumb fox." The humour drifted away from her grey face into something worried, "Seriously Nick, what were you doing here?"

He almost told her he couldn't sleep. Almost. But he knew she'd get all worrisome and nag why until he was laid bare before her, like a specimen to cut open. She'd poke and prod aimlessly until she found the cause of his heavy heart. There she'd see the cancerous blackness pumping through his veins, just under the red furred surface and she'd never look at him the same again. She'd probably request a new partner, one she could trust. And he couldn't live with himself if that happened. Was it selfish? Yes. Did he wish he could trust her? Yes. Would he? Not on this one. There was too much to lose.

So instead he gave a half truth. "The Chief wanted to see me."

Now she dropped the dossier and swivelled her chair to face him fully. "What about?"

Maybe he could deflect her investigation with humour, that was his usual fall back plan. "We're going to start a Judy Hopps fan club. There'll be streamers and pins. The whole shebang. Bogo is in charge of cake and I'm going to write fanfiction." She looked like she'd just been assigned Stakeout duty, thoroughly unimpressed. So he sighed, she wasn't going to drop it that easily. "He wanted to discuss the case."

"Oh," It was clear she didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing, perhaps she sensed that something was off. Probably with her super-bunny powers. He swore he was going to get her a cape, something purple to match her vibrant eyes. "Anything specific?"

How did you answer that? He couldn't bring up that the Chief had questioned his integrity, because then she'd ask why. He couldn't bring up Bogo's little story, that was too personal and he'd end up in the morgue this side of the week. So he mentioned the one thing that might distract her long enough to not dig further. The case. He yawned lightly and said, "He wanted to discuss the leads on our perp's identity."

Her nose wriggled in annoyance and her ears flattened in that way they did whenever she was disappointed. She slapped the evidence report on her desk with a huff. "What leads? The suspect's not on the system. There's nothing besides the fact that he's a male red fox."

So Nick handed over the sheets he'd typed up that morning, the leads he'd gotten from his 'instinct'. He'd avoided showing anyone it so that he could pretend he'd made it all up. But he hadn't and now Judy was staring down at a rough profile and a list of universities with a growing sense of wonder. The criterion for their suspect was wonderfully narrowed;

Age: 18-25

Sex: Male

Species: Red Fox

Occupation: Cleaner or dishwasher

Other: University student. Non-smoker.

Carrots looked up with a quizzical brow. "Where'd you get all this? Anonymous tip?"

"From the fur. I um..." he felt embarrassed. He'd sniffed someone else's fur. And the fact that he could deduce almost everything from someone's scent was a weird ability. Females especially didn't like it. But it was how foxes communicated. It was how they sized each other up and figured out who the other fox was. Finally, he decided to just be honest, because if he couldn't be honest with her about the other thing, he could be honest at least on his deduction skills. Like a good partner. Like a good cop. "I uh analysed it with my nose."

"You smelled it?" It sounded a lot less professional when she summed it up like that. Her ears were pointed forwards, eyebrows raised and her little button nose twitched with suspicion. She thought he was teasing her. It was a logical reaction, he had developed a reputation for pranks in the short time he'd been here. Fangmeyer and Wolford had sworn revenge after he'd wired a recording of a howl to start every time they opened their drawers. They'd made absolute fools of themselves. Dumb wolves.

"I sifted the details from his scent." He didn't really know how to explain it. So instead he tapped his muzzle with a red-furred finger. "This isn't just good for holding up my sunglasses, you know."

But she nodded her understanding. Maybe not understanding, she was still confused as shit. She did, however, believe him, and he could have kissed her for that. "Alright, what about the universities? You've narrowed it down to three in the city, how do you know it's one of these three."

"Because Carrots, they are the only ones that accept foxes." He said it with nonchalance. He wasn't going to go all sob story on this one. It was a fact of life. A sucky one, but a fact all the same.

"Oh." He could see that she wanted to argue, to complain about the injustice thrust upon his kind. It was the typical Judy reaction. But something must have stayed her tongue because she quickly adopted a more agreeable expression. What was it with small miracles today. "So how do you want to play it Slick?" He could have kissed her again. The last thing he needed was people worrying about him today, he was already feeling shitty and exhausted as it was.

He tented the fingers of his paws, his bushy tail flicking lazily as he thought. "We visit the universities. Ask to see a list of their fox students and cross reference them with the details. Then we take photos of the ones who fit and show them to our friend Mr Thumper."

She nodded, a smile tugging her lips. "Wow. Nicholas Wilde doing paperwork, chasing leads and sifting through evidence, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a cop."

Haha big ears, very funny. He flashed a grin in return, "It's a good thing you know me better then isn't it Whiskers?"

"Whiskers?" her nose wrinkled at the new nickname, he had to admit it didn't work all that well. But he didn't have to admit it to her. "We both have whiskers, Nick."

"And we both eat carrots, Carrots."

Her face was deadpan, "Since when have you ever eaten a carrot fox?"

"Tsk, racist. I'll have you know that foxes are omnivores bunny." He retorted, crossing his arms indignantly and raising his slender snout in the air.

"Right, so I guess I get to call you Carrots now then?" She stuck her tongue out like a child, and Nick decided he wasn't going to stoop so low as to join her.

Before he could reply a deep bass tone rang out from in between them. Nick frowned, it wasn't coming from his phone which still lay on his desk like it was sunbaking in the artificial light of the fluorescents above. Judy quickly pulled out her own phone, which was flashing with a number he didn't recognise.

"ZPD Officer Judy Hopps speaking." She said and Nick had to chuckle. It wasn't anything like Nick's way of picking up the phone. He always used a fake business name or referenced a brothel somehow, unnerving the caller to no end and giving himself a good laugh. The first time he'd picked up one of Judy's calls she had audibly stuttered through the line before his laughter had given it away and she'd promised to take a curling iron to his tail.

There was a high-pitched chatter on the other end and Judy relaxed visibly. She pressed a button and held the phone between the both of them. "Hello Oliver, I've just put you on loudspeaker so Officer Wilde's can hear as well."

Nick mouthed the words 'who the heck is Oliver' but the high pitched, stammering voice answered the question. Mr Thumper called out,

" _ **Uh hello officer Wilde."**_

Speak of the devil. Also, why the heck are these two on a first name basis? He was sure there was a rule against that somewhere.

"Mr Thumper. What can we do for you?" He said in his con-man voice, stressing the do and you. It expertly hid his irritation at the bunny.

There was a long pause.

" _ **Well, you know how you**_ **uh** _ **... told me to let you know if um anything turned up. About the case I mean."**_

"Yes Oliver, what is it?" Judy said patiently. How was she coping, she was even more impatient than Nick was.

" _ **That shady guy I mentioned. The one loitering around. The uhh..."**_

Oh jeez Louise, just say it already you stupid brown fur ball. It wasn't like Nick didn't know they were after a god-damn fox. He wondered if he'd get in trouble for interrogating the victim of the crime. It was at the very least frowned upon. He was sure if he explained the circumstances to the Chief, he'd be able to keep his job.

"The fox?" Nick finished. He was starting to get pissed off at the guy.

" _ **Yes him. Well, I uhh... I can see him right now."**_

Both Nick and Carrot's ears shot up in interest simultaneously. This was a lucky development.

"You're sure it's him?" Carrots asked.

" _ **I'm positive Judy. I'm following him down the street as we speak."**_

And he was calling her Judy now. There was definitely a rule about this somewhere. He'd show her as soon as he remembered where he put said rule book after finishing the academy. He had a nagging feeling that he'd probably burnt it in drunken celebration.

Instead, he cleared his throat. "Give us your location and we'll be on our way."

The brown buck spouted off an address and Carrots hastily wrote it down. "Stay safe Oliver, we'll be there soon."

As soon as the phone clicked off Nick said it. "Oliver?"

"That's his name. Not everyone can get away with naming every bunny after their food, Nick." She said as she pulled her vest on over her head. Bad idea, he thought. It was still hot enough outside to sweat your ring out, and he had no intention of dying of dehydration in order to stop a bullet from doing the job a lot less painfully.

"It's not every bunny. Only you get to be called Carrots." He corrected blithely as he grabbed his utility belt.

She took a second to place a paw over her Kevlar covered breast. "I didn't realise I was so special. I'm touched Nick, I really am."

He let her have that one because his first response was particularly dirty. The smirk died on the tip of his tongue. He had no illusion that the burglar would be the only fox in the holding cells tonight if he opened his big mouth.

Together they grabbed their coats and made their way down to the Precincts garage, signing out their usual car. It was the only one Carrots could reach the pedals in. But for the whole journey downstairs, Nick was tense. This case was almost over. He wanted to get this over with, and then forget about it with copious amounts of whiskey. Prove his loyalty; show that he can be a good cop regardless of the churning in his stomach. That he wasn't just a no good fox that had conned his way into the ZPD.

It wasn't until they pulled out into the bustling streets that Carrots turned to look at him from the drivers side. Her voice was oddly pitched as she spoke. "Nick, if you don't want to do this, you don't have to."

"What are you saying Carrots?" He hoped he misunderstood.

She shrugged, her long grey ears moving with the motion. "He's a fox, I get it. I can get another team to bring him in."

He couldn't believe this. Here he was trying to do the right thing and she didn't believe in him. Didn't trust him to do what needed to be done. It was fucking ridiculous. He could understand Bogo asking, he had to. But Judy Hopps was the one person meant to believe in him. He ground out his answer like mincemeat, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because you don't have to just say that..." She immediately looked concerned, like he was fragile. Her eyes were wide and her nose twitched horizontally. It should have felt good to know she cared, but all he could see was the underlying doubt behind the concern and his nightmares threatened to flood back to him. She was his partner and she didn't trust him to do his job.

He turned his face to glare out the window. "I said I'm fine. I'll do what needs to be done."

"Nick-Okay. Let's just get this over with." In the reflection of the glass her ears drooped before she turned back to face the road. That alone was almost enough to break him. A pang in his chest made him want to apologise. She didn't mean to make him feel shitty. But he couldn't say sorry, not when he was in the right.

But he completely agreed with her. The sooner they were done the better, and she'd know he was right all along. He was going to be a good cop. He'd promised himself he'd do it for her, for Carrots. And if that meant he had to be a fucking hypocrite and arrest a fox, he'd do that too.

So he slumped in his seat, and as he stared at the road ahead of them, one thought crossed his mind. Let's just get this shit over with.


	6. Chapter Five

**_...10.13am_**

 **ZPD Wilde, Sahara Square**

The suburb was like any other in Sahara Square; square buildings, tin rooves, mud or brick walls and paint peeling everywhere from the relentless abuse of the sun. Nick should have acknowledged that there were other details too. Like that the majority of the animals he'd seen were prey. Not surprising actually, there weren't a lot of predators that liked desserts. Or that every house had solar panels. Smart. Or that it was way too hot for the kangaroos that lived in house number two of Spinifex Lane to be doing what they were doing, and they were loud. Carrots blushed profusely as they walked past it, and that threatened to draw a smile to Nick's lips. But all Nick could really notice was how fucking hot it was.

He decided it was the bunny's fault they were out here in the boiling heat, and gave the brown ball of fur such a dark look when they found him, hiding behind a telephone booth, that the buck visibly flinched. Carrots, in turn, shot Nick a reprimanding glare before turning to the shop owner.

So he busied himself with his sunglasses, which was a mixed blessing. They protected the sensitive eyes that were designed for night vision from that dictatorial ball of gas in the sky. But they were also metal. And that metal had heated up to where he worried his fur would catch on fire. But he didn't push them up, he might be burning and grouchy but at least he could fucking see.

"Oliver, is everything all right?" Carrots asked in that disgustingly helpful way that was so her. And again with the Oliver shit? Nick wanted to spit at his feet.

The buck took one more glance at Nick's face before he reluctantly nodded. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I've tracked the... uh... suspect's location."

Nick tore his gaze from ace-superspy brown ears to look around for the fox. Nope, no fox was in sight and he didn't blame them. No fox would be stupid enough to be caught out in this heat. What does that make you dummy? He scowled to himself. If it wasn't so hot he'd beat himself up for that comment, or was it the stupidity he was angry for.

"Then where is he Thumper?" he said a bit more caustically than procedure dictated, and he would have pinned his ears back as well but he couldn't stand the weight against his fur. "We don't have all day."

"Nick, stand down." Carrots rebuked before turning to her kind. "Please forgive him Oliver; he's having a bad day."

Nick could have growled at her, where did _she_ get off making excuses for him. But having an argument with the energetic Judy Hopps was way too much effort right now. Instead, he panted. He sometimes wished super villains were real, it probably wasn't a very good cop thought, but maybe the bad guy would get just as pissed at the sun as Nick did. Then he'd build a machine to blow the damn thing up, yeah that would be nice.

"No, uh, it's perfectly alright." The brown bunny was taking the high road, that fucker. Carrots gave him an appreciative smile. That, at least, seemed to spur the bunny to the point. "I saw him go into that house down there, No. 7. He hasn't left yet."

Carrots nodded her little grey head energetically, telling him. "Thankyou Oliver," he knew she was doing it just to annoy him now, "we'll take it from here. We'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Okay. Good luck Judy. You too Nick." He looked so vibrant and happy to help that Nick felt he'd rather have someone rip out his claws one by one than bare another second.

He gave a short nod, accompanied by a grumbled "Thumper." Then he was off, heading for No.7 Spinifex Lane, cursing the hot road underneath his bare feet. He heard Carrots join him after a moment and dreaded the tension between them.

"What was that?" she asked pointedly. He was glad they were moving otherwise he knew her feet would be thumping the ground in annoyance. And as big and tough as this fox was, Nick couldn't stay mad at something so adorable.

His muzzle wrinkled in distaste, "What?"

"You can't just treat people like dirt, Nick."

At that he stopped, shoving his paws in pockets. "Oh yes, because that's going to bring civilisation to its knees. Foxes treating other people the way that they are treated, that's a big no-no."

"Nick, don't be an ass." And there go the feet. Thump, thump, thump.

He glared at her, what had _he_ done wrong? She was the one breaking protocol. It was all, Oliver this and Oliver that. If he didn't know the bunny any better, he'd say she liked him. "I was just doing my job." He was trying to be a good cop, didn't mean he had to be a nice one and frolick with every cotton-tailed furball he met. Nope, being nice to one rabbit was enough for him.

"He was trying to help." The fact that she'd softened the hard edges of her expression at his excuse infuriated him more. Why was every mammal taking the high road? It also reminded him that he was being an asshole. Nick wasn't going to lie; he was always an asshole, but today he just wasn't hiding it so well.

He let out a weary pant, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He never could fight argue with her. "Okay, I'm sorry. You're right, it's just been a really long day." Never mind that it wasn't even 11 o'clock in the morning.

True to her form, Carrots didn't mention that little tidbit."Do you want to talk about it?"

He offered a weak smile but shook his head to the side. "Thanks, Carrots but no thanks. I'm dying out here in this heat."

"Okay then let's get this job done."

Then she started walking towards the designated house. It was a wreck, a hut like every other with caramel bricks and a tin roof gleaming brightly in the sun; it was the outside that set it apart. It looked like the dumping ground for a construction company. Piles of plasterboard, timber and scraps littered the front yard around a clearly defined path to the front door.

It gave Nick a rather foreboding thought and he called out.

"Hey Carrots," she stopped and looked at him. "Just let me do the talking, please."

She visibly softened and Nick felt doubly bad for not telling her what bothered him, "Sure Nick."

He knocked on the door. He felt his nose twitch at the overwhelming musk he could already smell, but then this probably was the guy's home. His den. Carrots, in turn, wrinkled her nose at the smell; even she was being overpowered by it.

"Give me a minute." The voice had a Warren accent, from the opposite side of the city from the Inner-city Burrows. Nick vaguely reflected how even in Zootopia itself, rabbits and foxes were segregated. Rabbits lived in the plush suburbia of the Burrows and foxes, weasels and hyenas were all but forced into the Warrens, which had become a sort of ghetto for the city. Nick himself had managed to avoid it, instead finding a place in the industrial area further out from the city centre. And had less gang violence, thank god. Nick had enough people wanting to kill him without stepping on someone's toes.

A flicker of movement.

He looked up to see one sharp blue eye in the peep-hole and knew the inhabitant was getting a look at them before they entered. It was fair enough, they were at his den after all. There were very few rules between foxes, but one of them was to never mess with a guy's home. So Nick stepped back to show he was unarmed, drawing Judy alongside him so she was visible too. Sure they had to arrest this punk, but he didn't want to be greeted with a baseball bat or a gun.

A moment later, he heard two locks and a chain being removed before the door was opened halfway. A fox with fur the same colour as Nick's own stood in the opening. He was slightly taller than Nick, perhaps 4'2", and the fur on top his head was combed to the side, strangely providing a more domestic yet slick look, like a mobster who helped his kits with homework in his spare time between gunning down enemies. He was wearing a vertically striped turquoise blue shirt over a pair of dark denim. A look Nick knew he could never pull off without a tie.

"What can I do for you officers?" his voice wasn't unkind, but wary and to Nick it sounded like someone who was used to being on his guard. Then again the criteria included every fox in the country, so it wasn't exactly a deduction. But at least he didn't make a comment about a bunny and fox working together.

"The name's Nick Wilde, I'm with the ZPD. And this is my partner, Officer Judy Hopps. We just had some questions for you Mr..." Nick said without his usual flair. He wasn't going to try and con this guy. Rule number one of Nick Wilde's Conman Academy was never bullshit a bullshitter. And they currently had to assume that this guy was a bullshitter. Any game Nick tried to pull would come back to slap him in the face harder than a cheated vixen. Not that Nick would ever admit how he came to know that metaphor, but his jaw had been stinging for a week about three years back. Coincidence? He certainly told everyone so.

"James Reynard," he said before glancing towards their badges, displayed prominently on their chests, "can I ask what this is about."

Carrots looked at Nick for a moment, and he nodded his acquiescence. Somewhere along the way they'd decided she was better off spouting the official stuff, not that Nick was bad at it. He just tended to embellish it so it rolled off the tongue easier. "It's part of an ongoing investigation. A piece of evidence has placed you at the scene." She told him.

You could see the cogs working in his vulpine brain before he sighed. It was a weary sound. He brought a paw up to rub his face before giving them a smirk and stepping aside. "You better come in then; the heat is unbearable out here."

Nick didn't know this fox, had never met him before, but suddenly he wanted to jump up and hug him for being so considerate. But that would have made the arrest a lot more awkward afterwards. He looked over to Carrots to see her reaction. She looked uncomfortable, the thought of being trapped in a den with two foxes obviously an unpleasant one, despite her protests against stereotypes. Before she could refuse, however, Nick put a paw on her back and pushed her along. "That's real good of you, Mr Reynard." He told the owner.

Entering into the old house they were surprised. Outside it was a dump. Inside it was a home. Everything was neat and tidy, but not in the same way as Carrot's desk at the ZPD. The floor was vacuumed recently but it was all carpet so soft that Nick suddenly felt the urge to compare it with Judy's fur. For scientific reasons of course. Around the walls were a multitude of pictures. The subjects ranging from family photos to school friends sitting together in the park, and Nick even spotted a few oil based paintings of older foxes, ancestors presumably. The furniture was simple and plain in appearance, but all bought with comfort in mind. He oddly noted there was no television, but supposed maybe the fox couldn't afford it. But from the massive bookshelf along one wall, he thought it was just a matter of preference.

Nick looked back when he realised Carrots wasn't next to him anymore. She'd frozen a few steps into the house and she stood stock still, black tips of her grey ears pointed like the nonexistent TV's antenna trying to get the best signal. Her eyes were wide and her body was tensed as if she was about to make a run for it and her nose was sniffing repetitively. Shit, the musk. It was doubly strong in here, and Nick was aware how much it slipped his mind. He was just used to it, he guessed. But to a bunny, the smell was a death sentence from a forgotten age. He felt bad now. He'd read an article once that smells were the strongest triggers for biological instincts. Said article had been at the back of a less then scientific magazine, but he supposed if you can't trust a book filled with bikinis and too much fur, what could you trust.

If James Reynard noticed the rabbit's sudden halt, he didn't mention it. Instead, he moved into the kitchen area with all the agility of their species and called out "Can I get you anything officers? Iced tea? Coffee?"

Nick's insides did a happy little flip, he was thirsty as sin. Despite the fact, it would only make him feel guiltier, later on, he ordered an iced tea for him and his partner. He took a second to look around the apartment once more. Of course, the missing tech wasn't lying around in the open and he hadn't expected it to be. That would have been far too easy. But he'd hoped for maybe one more small miracle.

Carrots seemed to relax, or at least unfreeze over time. By the time Reynard exited the kitchen with a tray holding three tall ice-filled glasses and a pitcher, she'd managed to successfully move nearer to the living room. She still stood instead of sitting, but Nick supposed that was fair.

Reynard barely gave her a second glance as he sat into an old armchair, his posture erect and attentive. "You said I was linked to a crime." He finally said. It seemed that the other fox applied Nick's rule of thought. Never try to bullshit a bullshitter; there'd be no small talk with this one.

Judy looked at Nick; she'd agreed he'd do the talking. He put his glass down with a weary sigh, "Yes. There was a robbery two nights ago down on Onyx Avenue, a computer store down on the corner. We have witnesses and evidence placing you at the scene."

Reynard's red right paw rose to rub his chin thoughtfully. "Onyx Avenue... Onyx Avenue... was it the one owned by that rabbit? Thumper, isn't it?"

Nick's eye twitched self-consciously, but he nodded. It was a good show at ignorance, if it was one. It made Nick nervous. Nick was usually pretty good at reading people; he had to be in his old line of work. You didn't want to con the wrong guy who was smart and held a grudge or a big stick. But here he was drawing up blanks, he couldn't get anything from the guy's body language. "That would be the one."

There was a moment, and Nick waited, unsure if he should continue. Maybe the guy didn't have another question or maybe he did.

Reynard pursed his lips and asked, "Do you mind, if it's not too much to ask, telling me who has accused me?"

It was Carrots who answered. Her ears tilted in that way they did when she was trying to be purposely fair but assertive and for perhaps the first time since they'd entered the den she looked up at the other fox's eyes. It was like a mouse staring down a mountain. For the first time Nick thought he understood the strength of one Judy Hopps. She was scared, afraid, but she'd still fight tooth and claw to protect civilians, even from a threat Nick wasn't sure existed. "I'm sorry Mr Reynard, but we can't divulge that information. Police procedure, you understand I hope?"

The fox's eyes seemed to glint as he looked at Carrots and Nick found the russet hair of his tail bristling, ready to step between the predator and prey. But James Reynard just smiled. "Of course, my apologies, I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine." Nick said to placate the situation, and he tried to play the tension he'd just felt off with a smug smirk. "We foxes are naturally curious anyway."

"Mr Reynard," Judy piped up, beginning to pace from the couch to the back door. Nick understood she couldn't relax right now, "when was the last time you were on the premises of Thumper Tech & Repairs?"

The fox leant back a little, gazing upwards in a show of thought. "Must have been almost two weeks ago I think. I was looking for a new phone and decided to check inside. You know, support local business and all that." He gave a charming grin at the bunny.

"Right," She said as she jotted down the statement. "And you haven't been there anytime since?"

"No." His voice was hard, "May I ask what actual evidence you have to suspect me?"

"Your fur." Nick said bluntly, he was still smiling but there was no point beating around the bush. Even Carrots looked up at Nick for the confirmation; she hadn't known for sure that he was the right fox. But Nick had, from the beginning. The musky smell that resided here was the same scent that clung to the fur in an evidence bag in Precinct One, mixed with the scent of ink and detergent. He'd known it with a sickening sense of dread that they had their mark. "It was found at the scene of the crime."

Something flickered across the taller fox's face. Ears flicked back, face scrunched up. Nick believed it might have been genuine confusion. And then it was replaced by a patiently raised eyebrow, "Surely it could have been left behind the last time I visited?"

Impaled on a shard of glass, that was broken during the crime. It was impossible. "Not likely." He said, trying to feel indifference. He was waiting for the fox to leap up and run. Or attack. Anything that would make it easier for Nick to do what he needed to do. At least adrenaline would overwhelm that hypocritical feeling that sank into his gut.

"Oh, I see." The fox didn't jump up. In fact, he seemed forlorn, like he recognised what was going to happen, and regretted it as much as he would breaking over his favourite glass. It was a funny sort of look. It made Nick's tail tingle.

There was a pause where no one said anything, unsure of how to pursue the conversation. The only sound was that of Carrot's pacing, and it gave Nick the peace and quiet to acknowledge the little doubt squeaking in the back of his mind. Maybe the guy didn't do it. He wasn't acting guilty.

"Nick," Carrots called from where she'd stopped pacing and gestured him over to her. She kept an eye on their host even as Nick was walking. She had paused in front of the sliding door leading to the small backyard and Nick vaguely wondered why that was. If she wanted the privacy to talk with him, there were other places further away from the blue-eyed fox.

She gave a short nod towards the glass and Nick looked up into the backyard. Like the front yard, it was a dump. More construction supplies piled dangerously around spiky dessert grass. The sunlight beat down on piles of tin, causing Nick to flick his sunglasses back onto his face. He didn't see what was so exciting, from the corner to the other corner it was just building supplies, not particularly uncommon.

Then he saw it. It hit him like a bear he'd gone up against in the police academy, hard and with no restraint. His legs almost buckled now like they had then, and his breathing came short. He double checked the bunny's face to make sure he wasn't the only one seeing this. Nope, she saw it too. He looked back up, maybe it'd disappeared while he wasn't looking.

His blood chilled and his tail straitened. He'd known this was their fox since they'd got here. But somehow it had been a distant thought. He'd purposefully kept it subjectively innocent. Like maybe it was a misunderstanding, and there was actually a reasonable explanation for the guy's fur being at the scene.

Now there could be no doubt. No misunderstanding.

He couldn't entertain that niggling voice that this all felt wrong because right in front of him was the last nail in the coffin. Exactly like the one found at the scene. Stacked in piles. He looked down at Carrots and met her eyes knowingly. They were the same red bricks.


	7. Chapter Six

_**...10.30am**_

 _ **ZPD Officer Hopps, Sahara Square**_

Judy Hopps couldn't help pacing, her body restless and riled up. Her primal instincts screamed at her, "Danger, danger!" She was in a fox's den, and every sense of her diminutive grey body was telling her to run. It was a hard wired sensation as deeply ingrained as that of burrowing and finding a nice mate and having kittens. But instead of having to deal with the domestic problems of handling a litter of kittens, she was in the natural impossibility of being in a den with two foxes. Her primal ancestors would be rolling over in their graves if they knew. Good thing they didn't know then.

One of those foxes was tall, russet coloured and immaculately dressed, his outfit put together as intricately as laying a trap for unsuspecting prey. Sharp blue eyes and even sharper teeth only strengthened the image of a fierce carnivorous smile. He was dangerous, her inner rabbit told her. And she had absolutely no reason to trust him right now.

The other was shorter, equally crimson and just as passionate about his clothes. His uniform was pristine as though he thought it reflected on his identity as a police officer. His own eyes were even more piercing, his canines revealed in a predatory snarl and Judy felt her knees shaking involuntarily. His ears curled like the two horns of a fallen angel as they peeled back in anger. She had given him her trust long ago during their first case.

But in that moment, she was more scared of him, of Nick, than the criminal sitting only ten feet away. At the sight of the bricks her partner's face had twisted and she could almost hear the slew of curses that stopped at the tip of his tongue. Even now in his fury, he was curbing his vocabulary for Judy's sake.

He'd wanted the fox to be innocent.

Judy Hopps was an optimist, go-getter and, as Nick often said, a little ray of sunshine so bright it was sickening to his cynical self. But she was not oblivious. She'd noticed something was wrong with him this morning, had been wrong with him since the case began. First him getting to work before she did, then the paperwork and his grouchiness towards Oliver were all evidence. But she was starting to wonder if there was more to that. Because there had to be if Nick was acting like this.

"Is anything wrong officers?" Reynard called from the couch with that silky voice of his. They'd been standing by the glass door for too long.

"Actually yes there is," when Nick didn't make a move to answer, she took over and pulled her handcuffs from her belt.

A paw shot out and rested on the metal restraints. Nick's face had lost its anger but his eyes were still hard, his mouth a grim slash across his muzzle. He waited until she met his green eyes before he breathed, his voice betraying him. "Carrots, please." He breathed the words and Judy could guess it might come out a whimper had he attempted to speak any louder. How could she refuse, when he sounded so vulnerable.

She let him take the handcuffs as she nodded her head awkwardly in the direction of the door. "I'll just go get the car then. Be back in a minute."

Nick nodded his head minutely. Before turning to the other fox, "James Reynard, you are under arrest..."

Judy was already at the door, eager to get away from the musky air that stinks of fox. She never thought fox musk would be a thing she ever had to deal with and she'd been wrong. She wondered if that made Nick less likeable to her, but it had never been a problem. The only scent she'd ever noticed coming off him was one of cheap dollar-store cologne, not that she'd ever made an effort to really sniff him. Regardless at least Nick didn't smell, she didn't know if she could cope otherwise.

She hovered just outside the door long enough to hear the _click-click_ of the cuffs and for Nick to finish reading the rights. Then she was bounding for the patrol car parked at the end of the street, hoping the task of placing one foot in front of the other would keep her from worrying about Nick. But it couldn't quite still her heart.

She remembered one of the many younger brothers, Lucas, that she would help Ma take care of growing up. One day when the kitten was around seventeen, he'd come home from school and locked himself in his room. While he was usually introverted, as introverted as you could be in a family of hundreds, he'd reached a new level of isolation over the next few days. When they'd finally coaxed him out of his room, his eyes had been red from crying and droopy from too little sleep. They'd finally gotten the story out of him, of how his first girlfriend (they'd been together throughout high school and it had been a big deal for him at the time) had dumped him, over a bowl of carrot stew. His voice had been a broken thing, symbolising his heart. Judy had never felt so sad on a sibling's behalf.

Nick's voice had sounded like that just now, arresting Reynard. It was as if someone had killed the Nick she knew, embalmed him and strung him up like a puppet with invisible strings. His voice was wooden, too tired to put on a smug air as if it came from someone else and a ventriloquist was working his muzzle. A sick sad puppet show. Judy wanted to hold him to her until their body heat brought him back to the living.

Okay, that might have been a bit weird, she noted. Wrong method, she thought. I don't know maybe it's worth a shot, she reasoned.

But they were on a case, and she couldn't think about him now. Not in front of the burglar. So she jumped in the car and started the engine. Later though. Later she'd sort this out with him. With that promise in mind, she drove up to No. 7's front yard to retrieve the two foxes. One was a criminal and the other her friend.

He came along quietly but regardless Judy decided to let him stew in interrogation. Meanwhile, she got herself a coffee. The machine in the Precinct wasn't anything to be proud of, it was cheap and tangy. But with enough cream, it was easier to hold down and process the caffeine inside. Although she still needed sweetener. She couldn't stand sugar, she was hyperactive enough as a bunny, but she had found that a dash of coconut oil provided a much more natural sweetener. And she'd heard it helped fight fat. Not that she had anything to worry about, of course. She hoped.

She wasn't surprised to see Nick leaning against the wall outside interrogation, waiting for her. The whole car ride he'd been quiet and tensed, like he was permanently in the parade stance of Zootopia's Police Academy, even while sitting. He didn't lean in his seat once. Her only condolence was that at least he was still using the pet name Carrots when he talked to her. But his facial muscles had locked down, fixed in something that wasn't a frown but was too stiff to be far off.

"Are you good, Nick?" she asked as she strode up to him. He looked dead tired.

He gave the faintest smirk, "Yeah Carrots, I'm good."

"You're sure?"

Instead of answering, Nick just shrugged. It was his typical Nicholas Wilde shrug, and it was the one thing she hated about him. Because she could hear the silent words behind that protest that one could only hear with the eyes. The barrier he built between himself and the rest of the world.

 _I'm Nick Wilde and I don't care. Look at how much I don't_ _care._

He reached out his paw for the door handle, but Judy stopped him by touching his exposed forearm. The fur there was soft and scarlet; she could feel the steady heat of him. He looked down at the contact, eyes startling for a moment. Judy didn't know what to say, what could she say without him blowing her off.

In the end, she settled for the first thing at hand. "You don't have to go in, you _can_ take the bench. If you want to."

The bench was an affectionate name for the other side of the two-way mirror. The special little dark room that resembles an old photo developing studio more than the high school bleachers, it allowed someone to watch unseen from the sidelines. Although in the police world being benched was usually a punishment for whoever was on the leading officer's hate list.

Nick, although he had been more of a pain in the ass on this case, wasn't on her hate list. But he must have understood, because he nodded. "Alright Carrots, I'll be right next door. Are you going to be okay with the big bad fox?"

"I've survived this long with you haven't I?" She gave him her toothiest smile; it was, after all, a victory to one up the fox in teasing. When he still looked worried she added, "Don't worry slick, I'm a sly bunny."

And then she dropped into the interrogation room before she could truly think about it. Because she did wish Nick was with her. James Reynard watched her hawkishly as she took a seat at the table, his eyes sharp and alert even while his posture was relaxed. She placed her coffee in front of her, as well as a few other pieces, and ignored the uncomfortable paralytic tingling that attacked her nerves under his gaze. An old instinct; Fight or flight.

"Hopps isn't it?" he asked almost immediately, pronouncing the vowels in that odd way of his. He was a city mammal, she reminded herself. You couldn't expect him to sound like a bumpkin in the sticks.

When she registered the words she looked up, they weren't any of the usual choice words criminals had for the officers interrogating them. She hardly believed the fox in front of her wasn't smart enough to remember her name. Or connect it to the events of six months ago. "You know very well it is, Mr. Reynard."

"Just curious."

Judy knew she was being baited, but reluctantly asked. "Of what?"

He gave her a small smile, way too happy to be in here. "Just curious for curiosity's sake, it's kind of a fox thing. Although many prefer labels like skulking around or being sneaky. Which one do you use?"

"I try not to make generalisations based on a person's species, Mr. Reynard." Judy said as candidly as possible.

"Likewise Ms. ZPD's first rabbit officer." Suddenly his ears shot up and a wry smirk spread across his face. "Confession time. I do recall an Officer Hopps, now that I think of it." His eyes seemed to dance like candles in the night and Judy's only consolation was that he was chained to the table, she could dance herself away from him if he attacked. "To do with the savage mammals' case, I think. She did a nice little press conference if I recall. Perhaps you know her? Grey bunny, long ears, purple eyes, interesting opinion on preds. Ring a bell?"

Judy swallowed a retort, her nose wriggling with the action. "What's your point, Mr. Reynard?"

"My point is, Officer," he leant forward across the cool metal table, "is that you don't actually seem to have any trouble making generalisations about species. What was it you said? That only predators can go savage because it is a biological thing. Aside from that particularly controversial view, I quite admire you, being the first of your kind. It's truly inspiring; fact, I'm a fan."

"We all make mistakes Mr. Reynard. But at least I haven't stolen anything." He was acting a lot more snarky then before, Judy noticed. Gone was the polite well-mannered host. She vaguely wondered if it was because of Nick's absence.

He seemed to jump forward at that and glared at the black window behind Judy as if he sensed the other fox's presence, but when he spoke is voice was cool and collected. "The only mistake I have made is being born a fox." His gaze narrowed to the bunny in front of him. "Only I'm going to receive jail time for my mistake Judy Hopps. Whereas you were showered with praise for yours and became the poster bunny for the ZPD. Well done rabbit."

Judy realised her mistake then. This whole interview he'd been in control, twisting the conversation to suit his needs. Classic rookie mistake, Hopps. She scolded herself silently before trying to rectify it.

"That's not why we are here Mr. Reynard." She said in an attempt to wrestle back control.

He actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at her, "Isn't it? I'm pretty sure the only thing you've got on me is that I'm a fox."

She pulled out a photo of the crime scene, namely the broken window of the computer shop and slid it in front of him. Nick had taken it before he bagged the tuft of fur, and it clearly showed the red hair snagged on the glass. "Your fur was found directly on the means of entry used by the robber."

He gave it a glance, no more. "That could be any fox's fur. You've got no proof it was me." Classic perp bluff, Nick had told Judy once. It was an opening for the interrogator to show their hand.

"It was traced back to you."

A raised eyebrow, "How? I'm positive my DNA isn't on file, despite the fact that I'm a fox."

Judy barely held back her grimace, he had a good point. Nick's verification by smell was unlikely to hold up in court. "Fur from your home is being cross-referenced as we speak."

"That's all you've got? Fur that may or may not be mine." He waved an arm as if to indicate the entire room. "If you haven't noticed _rabbit_ , it's the middle of fricking summer out there. Every fox, wolf, bear and their mother is shedding fur and sweating their balls off. Especially the mothers.

"How do I know some random didn't just pick up an already fallen piece of my fur and place it there while _they_ robbed the place?"

She pushed forward the second piece of evidence, a red brick in an evidence bag. "This was found at your home." She pushed another identical brick. "And this was found at the crime scene. It was used to break through the window."

For barely a second, the fox's eyes widened in surprise, and then it was gone. Recognition. But it was enough; Judy allowed herself a smirk of satisfaction. He was their guy. There was no way James Reynard could talk his way out of this one, and even if he did it was only a matter of time before they found enough evidence to convict. For now, he was trying to recompose his poker face. That silver tongue had turned to lead. Job well done Hopps, she told herself.

"I was framed." She was torn from her little victory toot-toot by his words.

"What?"

More resolutely he said, "I was framed bunny."

She decided not to mention that the term bunny wasn't appropriate once the rabbit became an adult. Instead, she barked a short laugh. This was more stupid than any age classification, "You were framed? I'm sorry but you're going to need to come up with something a little more original when you find yourself in court."

"Where's Wilde?" he crossed his arms and huffed.

"Excuse me?"

Another eye roll, that cheeky bastard, "Your partner Officer Wilde, where is he? Why isn't he here?"

Judy resisted the urge to glance behind her at the viewing room. Nick was likely in there, worrying about her. He was an idiot if he thought she didn't notice how he tensed whenever she was around other predators. It was subtle, a slight straightening of the neck, hands pulled from their pockets. It was also endearing and she knew he'd be out here in a second if she said she needed him.

Judy returned to the moment with a shrug. "He had somewhere else to be."

"I bet." Reynard snorted, shaking his head with a grin. "It can't be easy watching one of your kind being set up for a crime he didn't commit."

Judy wanted to groan and bash her head against the table. Instead, she said, "Firstly, I thought we agreed this had nothing to do with species. And secondly, no one's buying the whole 'I didn't do it' con."

"Listen, lady, I spent so fucking long just getting the lease to that shithole I live in. Now, why would I go and ruin that by robbing a third-rate shop around the corner. It doesn't make any sense. You don't shit where you eat."

"No offense Mr. Reynard but most innocent people aren't so happy to be here."

"Yeah well, I already know I've got no chance in hell. You won't believe anything I say, so why shouldn't I make the most of it and enjoy your lovely company?"

"You don't have a chance in hell because all the evidence points to you."

"Because I was framed. How do I know one of you cops didn't do it, just to tidy up the case in a nice red furred ribbon." Then he raised his hands in an 'oh by the way' sort of gesture. "Also, if I robbed a store, where's the effing cash?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that Mr. Reynard. Heck, since you're such a fan, I'll be sure to sign one of the stolen items. You can have it framed and hang it up in your prison cell." Judy said as joyfully as possible.

He seemed to realise nothing was going to break the rabbit in front of him because he huffed and crossed his arms. Judy wasn't a quitter.

After a moment, he said, "I want to call my lawyer."

"What's wrong, am I not fun anymore." Judy bared a smile for more predatory than any James Reynard could muster. "But sure, we'll get you a lawyer."

Ten minutes later Judy opened the door into the darkened room. Nick was still there, arms crossed and tail flicking methodically, as he leant against the wall. His eyes were fixed on the fox beyond the glass, alone in the sleek metal of the interrogation room, like he could bore a hole through the guys skull and read his mind.

"We've got this guy in the bag." Judy said as she passed him a coffee, black and more sugar than water in it. She followed his eyes to the other fox, who was sitting calmly, smiling at the two-way glass as if he knew they were there.

Nick's voice was thick as he lowered the coffee cup after a long sip. He didn't even grimace at the crap taste that he'd moan about any other time. "We sure do."

Judy's eyes flicked up to watch him closely. He was still glum and wooden, but he was hiding something else as well. "Nick, are you all right?"

"'M fine."

"Don't let this guy get to you. He's just being a sore loser." Judy assured him. "He wouldn't be the first."

Nick hummed, "Oh, there's no doubt he's an asshole." Judy wouldn't have used that sort of language, she was raised differently. But she nodded anyway and raised her own coffee to her lips. "But he's also innocent."

Judy Hopps choked on her coffee. Literally, she gagged and scalding hot liquid flew out her nose. It hurt like a motherfu real bastard. And it was embarrassing as heck, she expected Nick to burst out laughing. That this would all be a prank. And then she'd thump him upside the skull. But he didn't. So she didn't. "You're kidding me right?" she asked when she was finally stable again.

"Nope." He was still gazing sombrely through the window, although he'd spared a raised eyebrow as she almost drowned herself. She didn't understand what he was getting at. They had a solid case.

"What are you saying, Nick?"

He turned to look at her, his nose wrinkling in distaste. There was a deadness to his usually vibrant green eyes and they barely managed to flicker alertness. He swallowed a moment before wetting his lips, his paw coming up to scratch the thick fur at his scruff. "I'm saying he didn't do it Carrots." He said.


	8. Chapter Seven

She stared at him a little too long, it would have been weird had they been talking about anything else. "You're tired Nick. You don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't I Carrots? Why's that?" he was still looking at her, his face still wooden but a condescending sneer masking his distress. But Judy could sense the termite-filled emotions beneath it. Like the wrong words might send it crumbling apart, words like you're taking this personally. She was determined not to say them.

"Nick, you're exhausted. Emotionally and physically." At his look of surprise she added, "I know you were here six o'clock in the morning, Ben filled me in."

"That traitor. Anyway, that's got nothing to do with this."

"Really? You're worn so thin that you have let this become about you, and it's not. He's not you Nick; it's just another case and he's lying to confuse us."

It's an eternity before he answers, his eyes moving this way and that as if he was mid-way through REM even when his eyes are open. Finally, just as Judy's about to shake him about, he sighs. "You're probably right."

Judy ignores the added 'probably' and leans her head against his arm in consolation, her ears flicking back in relief. She feels him push back into her face for just a moment and then the weight is gone. It was like an arm-nuzzle. She tried not to think about how weird that was.

"We have enough evidence to convict. Even if his lawyer argues, we've still got means and opportunity so he'll be in lock up overnight at the very least." She told him.

"So what do we do now?"

"Write up a report and call it a night, our jobs done. There's nothing much we can do."

He gave a nod but stayed where he was wearily, too exhausted to move. It wasn't until Judy gave him a small tug that he let her shamble him out of the bench. He was like a zombie from those horror movies they'd watched, she thought with a smile. It had come out on patrol one day that she'd never watched a horror movie as a child, what with having a hundred or so younger siblings around all the time, and Nick had sputtered like he'd had a heart attack. Sacrilege, he'd called it and rocked up at her apartment that night with a laptop, takeout, and half a dozen horror movies. It was a fond memory.

Maybe she'd do it again sometime. Nick could use the chance to unwind after this case. She smirked to herself, she'd ask him after they'd finished the report.

Judy allowed herself a happy little sigh when she popped her freshly written document into the Chief's 'IN' box. There was nothing better than knowing all of her paperwork was done. Nick was just finishing his now, and they'd go home. Nothing to worry about until the next shift, she hoped.

"Hey slick," she called, "almost done?"

He was sitting there typing away at his department issue ancient computer and looked up.

"Uh yeah," he said almost absentmindedly, "just dotting the I's and all that. You go home, Carrots."

Judy suddenly felt awkward asking and twiddled her thumbs. "Actually, I was wondering... if you wanted to come over to my place."

Nick raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, we could watch some movies and unwind a little." Judy was trying to keep a blush off her face and failing miserably.

His smile widened and he leant back further, tenting his paws like an evil mastermind. "Now Carrots, are you asking me over to watch movies and chill?"

Something in his tone alerted Judy something was off. Movies and chill. She'd heard that somewhere before, she thought. Vaguely a memory rose up of overhearing Grizzoli and Delgado talk about going over to their girlfriends to 'watch movies and chill'. They had been very descriptive of what followed, and none of it involved watching movies.

Judy blushed red from the black tips of her ears down to her toes. The thought of her and Nick doing those things made her want to squirm. But they'd never-

She closed her eyes. He wouldn't-

She couldn't-

"Relax Carrots," Nick called her back to reality, "you're beginning to look like a... Well, a carrot or a tomato. Do they grow those on the ol' Hopps homestead? Regardless, I know what you meant."

"You do?" her voice came out strange, deeper than usual. Huskier. Heck, she hoped he didn't notice. She cracked an eye open, he was smiling like the devil so he definitely noticed.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Unless you really want me to come over and chill, Hopps." Afer a moment he glanced at his laptop, his frown returning. "Regardless I've gotta say no. I think I'll just have a quiet one tonight. I'm kinda tired."

Judy allowed herself a small smile. "Sure Nick, I'll take a rain check on that movie and chill. Good night."

"Good night Carrots." It wasn't enough to make him smile, but she couldn't think of anything to do. So she walked towards the door. She supposed he needed a night's sleep after this case. Who knows when he did last? He looked like the idea of sleep was a completely foreign concept at this point. Like, who knew you could just close your eyes and relax in order to cure that insufferable exhaustion? It was a terrifying mental image. What could make you so tired?

The thought stopped her and she spun around. "Nick?"

"Yeah?" the fox answered from his desk, he hadn't turned back to his desktop yet. Judy tried not to think about how he must have watched her leaving. If only she'd known then she would have swayed her hips a little. It was an embarrassing thought but at least it would have got him laughing. Instead, she focused on the concern immediately important.

"You'd let me know right? If you weren't okay. You know you can talk to me, about anything?" They were partners and best friends. They should be able to talk about anything, and trust each other not to judge.

Nick's face softened, sobering quickly. He seemed to think about it for a long moment; confirming his answer with his heart, she imagined. "Yeah, I do."

"Okay. Because I trust you too." She didn't know why she added that last part. Maybe she was daring him to argue, to probe the level of his feelings for her. Would he judge her if she told him what was really on her mind? She didn't know.

But he didn't dispute. Instead, he replied, "Good night Judy."

She nodded, mumbling her reply before heading once again for the door. Another more genuine smile crept up her grey-furred face. Over the short time they'd known each other, they'd developed a code for their emotion towards the other. Nick would call her Carrots normally, symbolising the easy going friendship they shared. But when he was angry or conventional he'd call her Hopps, just as she'd call him Wilde professionally. But whereas she referred to him as Nick when friendly or compassionate, he kept a special word for when he was strongly affected towards her.

Judy. She liked to believe it was a password for how much he cared. That he kept her name as a closely prized secret even if the whole world used it freely. And he'd used it then. She knew he'd heard her and it was a promise.

A promise that everything would be alright.

Of course, with her luck, she should have seen it coming. She was dead wrong.

Despite Nick's absence, she still watched a movie and chilled. Not that anything frisky happened on her lonesome because of that fact. Well any more than normal. She was a rabbit after all, they have their needs. Libido was indeed one of them. And if that need had resulted from the earlier mental images that she'd conceived in response to a certain slang idiom... she'd never confess to it. A cop knows best not to incriminate herself.

She was halfway through the movie when her phone rang. Despite the shameful actions only her four walls were privy to half an hour beforehand, she hoped it was Nick. Maybe he'd changed his mind.

She was slightly disappointed when his contact photo didn't show. It was a picture from the day on the job he'd gone without coffee. It was the result of a dare but they'd learnt something too; no one wanted a de-caffeinated Nick Wilde in the precinct. His photo had been hung up in the breakroom with the one worded descriptive title 'GRINCH' labelled beneath it. It had also been saved to his contact image as a reminder of the single worst photograph in existence of the glamorous Nicholas Piberius Wilde.

Instead a string of numbers was the only identity shown, although it was familiar. She tried to think of where she'd seen it before even as she picked up.

"Judy Hopps speaking."

" _Oh hey Judy,"_

She suddenly remembered where the number was from.

" _It's Oliver."_

She sat up a little straighter. She'd forgotten to call him about the arrested fox. Maybe he needed help. "Sorry Oliver, I didn't recognise the number. Is everything alright?"

" _Oh yeah, everything's dandy. Um, I was just wondering how you were doing? Is everything good with the case?"_

"Yeah, we've made an arrest. I can't tell you any more until we've finalised the paperwork or anything but it looks like this is our guy."

There was a slight pause before he answered like he was building up the courage to say something. Judy was getting apprehensive wondering.

" _Well, then I was wondering if you'd like to go get dinner sometime? With me?"_

"As in a date?" Judy found herself asking. Was she being slow? She hadn't had any wine tonight, being a weeknight and all. But she had to be sure she understood his meaning.

" _Well yeah, if that's alright with you."_

Cheese and crackers, he was asking her out. Judy wasn't quite sure what to say, she hadn't been asked out since she was in high school. Was it weird? Yes. No, he was an attractive single male rabbit, she was an attractive single female rabbit, so it wasn't exactly weird. What would Nick think? Except it wasn't Nick's problem. The ball was completely in her park. There was nothing going on between her and Nick; given their species difference there probably never would be. She couldn't think of any real reason not to, so she opened her mouth and said.

"Sorry Oliver, but the investigation is still ongoing. And you're a person of interest." She said automatically. It was the first excuse to come to mind. "Maybe later?"

" _Yeah, maybe afterwards."_

She was relieved to have bought herself time, to think about the idea. She wasn't sure what she wanted. When she ended the call a few minutes later she sat there in a huff, worrying at her ears. She was too lost in thought to acknowledge the movie still playing in front of her.

She needed to talk about it to someone, but she wasn't sure who. Not Nick, he was way too stressed right now. Her parents? Hell no, not on this subject. The neighbours? Bucky and Pronx? Preferably not.

She's only just sliding into bed when it hits her. She knows the perfect person to ask, someone kind but not afraid to get sassy with her. She smiles at the thought as her eyes drift close. Sleep descended on her like a blanket of bliss.

"Good morning." Clawhauser practically sang as she waltzed up to him the following morning. He's already on his second box of breakfast bagels, even though she's twenty minutes early.

"Hey Clawhauser," she said as she hopped up onto the extra seat behind his desk, she'd come to terms with the fact that he kept it there for her. And the plethora of other officers he played counselor for. There was a reason he was the precinct's mascot. "can I talk to you for a minute."

"Of course girl, I've always got time for you." He moved so he could balance one elbow on the desk and rest his multiple spotted chins on the upright paw. His attention now fully fixed on her, he smiled broadly in what was obviously an attempt to be encouraging. It actually made Judy feel a little embarrassed.

She fidgeted with her own paws, looking at the grey digits of them as she spoke. The pads of her fingers and palms were bright pink in contrast, but soft and supple thanks to the aloe vera infused moisturiser she used daily. "Well, it's about a guy?"

If anything, the cheetah seemed to gather even more attention for her, his ears swivelling to face her completely and his eyes widening a fraction. Even his smile grew a little more. Jesus, he was like a cat out of some wacky fairy tale, smiling like a loon. "What about this guy?"

He emphasized each word as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. Which was all a bit surreal for her, how would he? "He asked me out... on a date."

She was not expecting his reaction and almost fell out of her chair in shock. The cheetah let out a high pitched squeal and rubbed his hands together. Like a kid on Christmas morning. "Yes, I knew it. Francine owes me twenty bucks!"

Judy was absolutely mortified, she looked around to see if it had drawn the attention of the other officers loitering around. It had, but they were mostly minding their own business or shaking their heads at Clawhauser's antics. "You knew?" Were they listening in on her phone calls? How did they know about Oliver? Clawhauser couldn't have met him. Except on the phone when he reported the robbery. Perhaps Nick told the cheetah about him, but why would he? Did everyone know?

The questions flooded through her mind in the space of a blink like a fast-flowing river. Then she focused on the last detail. An altogether different question escaped her lips. "Why does Francine owe you twenty bucks?"

That brought the cheetah down a peg. He looked somewhat bashful, but only somewhat. "Oh never mind that, of course, we knew. We have known for, like, ever."

"We? Who else knows?"

There was that smile again. A bright grin. "The entire precinct knows sweetheart. You can't honestly think you hid it very well."

"The entire precinct?" They were totally listening in on her calls. She wanted to go around and give every person in the building a piece of her mind... with a taser. Had they never heard of privacy. But she needed Clawhauser's advice first. Then she'd use her taser on him. "And you don't mind?"

He rolled his head back and chuckled, "Bunny please, I think it's the best thing ever. Sure it's a little unorthodox, and he has horrible taste in music. I mean seriously, 'Gazelle's not my thing?' Who even says that? But you too go so well together?"

Judy's twitched her nose involuntarily. It sounded as if Benjamin Clawhauser was all for it. "You really think so?"

"Come on Judy, of course I do. You both fit together like adorable puzzle pieces. You're both small, smart and funny. And he is such a looker. What with that red fur and green..." Clawhauser started before Judy interrupted.

Wait what? "What red fur? He's got brown hair." She told him. "Who were you talking about?"

"What?" Clawhauser looked mortified; like someone had told him he had to finish off his vegetables before he could have his desert. His tail flinched and he looked like a deer caught in the head lights of a monster truck. He froze; his eye blinking as he absorbed her words. Finally, he said, "Who were _you_ talking about?"

"Oliver Thumper."

"The computer shop guy?" Clawhauser seemed utterly confused.

"Yes."

"...The rabbit?"

"Yes, he asked me out. I was wondering what you thought about the whole thing? Who did you think I was talking about Ben?"

It was as if the cheetah had gotten lost and realised he was now in a mine field. He held up a finger as he decided how to answer the second question. Instead, he chose to ignore both questions. He leant forward conspiratorially and asked, "Does Nick know?"

Nick? "No. Why would he?" Judy asked. Wait, red fur? She bet Clawhauser had been about to say green eyes. And just like that, she knew who Ben had been talking about. "Oh my god. Really Ben?"

"Oh dear," Benjamin said as he looked everywhere but at Judy.

"Did you think he was the one who asked me out? Why would he?"

Benjamin Clawhauser was an upstanding cheetah. A friend to all, no one had a bad word to say about him and he didn't have a bad word to say about them, usually. Gossip didn't count. So instead of answering the question he took a graceful exit from the conversation, befitting a ZPD reception expert and radio dispatcher of his calibre. He stuffed two donuts in his mouth so he couldn't talk. "Benjamin Clawhauser, you tell me this instant." Anyone who said bunnies couldn't be scary had never met Judy Hopps. And even though it was a popular break room topic of how terrified Nicholas P. Wilde was of his diminutive partner, Clawhauser visibly shrunk from the furious rabbit even as he chewed the doughy mouthful in his mouth.

Finally, he swallowed his food and looked on the verge of grabbing another one. "I should get back to work." He said even though he hadn't been working when she first talked to him. But he'd turned back to his computer anyway, typing a random series of keys despite the fact that the words were incomprehensible in any language.

She was about to say something when a call came from the third story balcony. Chief Bogo was there, pointing at his office. Judy vaguely wondered if Clawhauser had a panic button and had notified the chief. It was probably there in case of an attack on the precinct, not for a livid rabbit. But she wouldn't put it past Ben to use it anyway. Regardless she started walking towards the elevator.

Regardless of the reason, she started walking towards the elevator anyway. She'd deal with Benjamin Clawhauser later.

Her mind returned to the conversation from beforehand. Benjamin had thought she and Nick were going to get together. And she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Sure she had thought about it, hypothetically of course. Nick wouldn't go for it. But would _she_ ever be able to do that, date outside of her species? She wasn't sure what was involved with such a relationship. Maybe she could research it.

It was only when the elevator doors closed with a hiss that she groaned audibly. After all, that had happened, Clawhauser hadn't told her what he thought regarding Thumper's proposal. She was seriously going to murder that cat.

Judy came to a halt inside the Chief's office, they weren't alone. Nick Wilde was already here, looking like he'd just got out of bed. Was that becoming a habit? She recalled how anal Nick was about grooming and presentation. Now if anything he looked worse then yesterday; dark bags were visibly in the red fur below his eyes, his eyes were heavy lidded and his fur ruffled. It even looked like he had slept in his uniform.

Chief Bogo gestured towards the empty chair and she hopped up onto it, glad for the distraction from Nicholas's sorry state. She snuck another peek at the fox and nodded by way of hello. It was returned, although with a shaky swallowing motion from her partner. He looked like a kicked puppy, attention firmly fixed on worrying at his tail. Something bad had happened.

"Officer Hopps, lets start get this done before morning muster." The cape buffalo said by way of introduction.

Get what done? Instead, she chose the eloquent "Sir?"

"What do you have for me on the Sahara Robbery?"

What was this about? "You've read my report?"

The buffalo bowed his head, "I have. But I want to hear your summary."

That sent out warning signals. Judy spared a look at Nick, whose eyes were still firmly fixed forward. Had something happened? "We arrested a fox by the name of James Reynard on suspicion of robbery. He was placed at the scene by both DNA and eye witnesses. Mean of entry has also been traced back to him. While in custody, forensics has also confirmed absolutely that it was his fur found at the scene. There is no doubt he's our guy." It was summarizing her report itself, but she had no reason not to. It was the truth.

"No doubt at all officer?" Bogo asked pointedly. His voice wasn't harsh, but it was authoritative. He was giving her a chance to change her answer if she needed to.

"Is there something you're getting at Sir? We followed procedure." she shot a glance at Nick who was still not looking at her. Suddenly she had a thought. What if Nick's weird greeting before wasn't from apprehension but something else. Another emotion.

She was distracted from the thought by the Chief's throat clearing. "I read your report Hopps, it corroborates what you have told me. Very well written as always. Wilde's was also well written, he obviously put a lot of thought in it." Judy knew before the Chief said it, she knew what it said. It was all in Nick's mystery emotion, one she now recognised. The Chief raised his voice as he kept speaking. "Your partner officer Wilde doesn't seem to agree. In fact, his exact words are:

'The investigation has _**not**_ been conducted to a satisfactory level of depth. Certain officers tasked with the investigation have allowed personal bias and emotions to affect their judgement. This in turn, has blinded them to other possibilities. They're too intent on draw together the details of the case to fit their hypothesis, whereas they should be lining up the theory to fit the facts. And the fact is, there is no evidence to prove that the accused is in possession of the stolen goods, or ever was. It is this officer's personal belief that James Reynard, the convicted suspect, is not guilty but in fact innocent.'

"This is an issue we need to discuss."

Judy's mouth was hanging open, even though she'd known it was coming. A sharp painful sensation tugged at her chest, she felt her knees weaken below her. Betrayal, a detached corner of her brain informed her. She looked up at the fox she'd called her partner and glared at him. Her ever-rapid heart rate seemed to slow for what felt like the first time. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. The same expression from before still coloured his face, the same mystery emotion.

Only it was no longer a mystery. It was guilt.


	9. Chapter Eight

_Few people realised how cold night was in the dessert, Nick realised. Before now he had been one of them. Once the sun went down, so did the mercury levels. All of the sweat that had accumulated throughout the day on Nicholas P. Wilde's vulpine body all but froze, and he felt like he'd gone skinny dipping in Mr Big's ice box for kicks._

 _But night time was beautiful, he begrudgingly admitted in an eerily wonderland sort of way. Admittedly he was slightly biased due to that whole nocturnal thing. The sky was a deep cobalt blue even if the stars weren't visible, and the moon hung low and large, it's glow painting the earth below it in magical silver. Despite himself he understood why those idiotic wolves liked to call to it. Of course Nicholas Wilde would never admit to it, he had a reputation to protect after all._

 _Stop going twilight on me and let's get this done Wilde, he scolded himself. He was here to do a job, not make googly eyes at the satellite in the sky. And when Nick Wilde did a job, he didn't waste time procrastinating._

 _He dashed across the chilling bitumen, his paws making no sound as they padded across its surface. His fox instincts and biology were well versed in stealth. There was a slight rustling as the dark hoodie brushed against his fur. But the coast was clear, no one would hear it. He paused in the shadow of one of the impossibly tall palm trees eyeing the highway behind it._

 _There was a popular saying that Zootopia never sleeps. Maybe that was true in Zootopia Central but not in Sahara Square, here even the highway traffic had slowed down to a trickle in the wee hours of the night. And they sure as hell wouldn't notice a fox in this particular car park. Perfect time and place for a robbery._

 _He made his way deftly to the shop window, the large white letters above the building gleamed like bone. His paws were in the large double pocket at the stomach of his jumper, testing the weight of the brick within. He was wearing gloves of course, he wasn't fucking amateur when it came to this, but he was still unnerved. Breaking and entering wasn't his style, and a brick was a hell of a lot less elegant than talking your way in. Or picking the lock. But he was resolute in his conviction; he had to break in this way._

 _Internally he asked, 'Why? Why does it need to be done like this?'_

' _Because that's the way it is done, you moron.' Another voice answered, colder than his own. He was going crazy, he knew. He should run now, before it was too late; he obviously wasn't in the right mind set to pull a job._

 _But his arm pulled out the brick against his wishes, and he took a step back, cocking his arm like he was a baseball pitcher. A heart beat later the brick was crashing through the window in a shower of sparkling glass. Nick vaguely likened it to a chandelier that had all its strings cut at exactly the same time, even as his arm came up instinctively to shield vulnerable eyes._

 _Gingerly he moved to the jagged frame, reaching a leg over and climbing inside, wary of the glass left behind. The last thing he needed was DNA falling behind. It was only as he fully stepped inside the shop that he felt the snagging sensation on his tail. He winced, just his fucking luck._

 _He pulled his tail too him and checked it, he couldn't feel a cut. But that didn't mean he hadn't left blood behind without feeling it. He looked at the glass shard sticking out of the frame like a translucent Himalayan mountain, but there was no blood drops in sight. However there was a tuft of hair, snagged on the point like a cloud hugging the mountain's snowy cap. He froze, the scene coming back to him. He recognised this, he was dreaming again. Nightmaring again._

 _As if on cue, he could hear sirens in the distance. He could wake up, should wake up to escape this torment. Reynard wasn't him, he reminded himself, Nick shouldn't have to live his demons. He should just wake up and go back to sleep once his heart settled. That's what he'd done last night, woken up at this point. But with dread he knew it wouldn't work. He'd been exhausted, and needed what little rest even a nightmare provided. If he woke up now, he'd only fall into the next nightmare, one far worse than this pathetic little terror. He couldn't live through that one. So he'd survive this one._

 _The tranquil expanse of midnight and silver was disrupted by flashes of red and blue in the distance. The police. He vaguely wondered which officers would manifest themselves in his sub-conscious even as he set to work. Jumping out the window and running down the street._

 _But his feet seemed to warp into something malleable, becoming heavy and clumsy until he tripped over in that way that only happens in dreams. He pushed himself up and stumbled forward a couple more steps, his limbs felt like he was crawling through jello, before he again collapsed._

 _The padding of paws alerted him to the officer's presence behind him and he looked up. His heart plummeted by what he saw, it was Judy. Of course it was fucking Judy, and her face was a mix of hurt and indignation._

' _She has the right to feel betrayed', a voice told him glumly._

 _Finally she pulled her cuffs out from the back of her utility belt, only they morphed before his eyes into a different shape. Leather and buckles. The voices of young scout cubs chorused from out of nowhere, chiming smugly;_

" _Did you really think we would trust a fox without a muzzle?"_

 _In a way this was almost worse than the other dream. The other nightmare. Nick choked back a sob as the bunny crept forward, the moonlight behind her creating a halo of purity. She was beautiful, but in the end she would always be his doom. Or he'd be hers. It had always been there, that undeniable truth of fate. Nick would curse if he wasn't so emotionally awed by the tragedy taking place._

 _The rabbit was above him now reaching forward to slip the muzzle over his mouth. As she cinched the last buckle she opened her mouth to speak._

" **Wilde!"**

Nick was awoken from his dream abruptly, crashing to the floor as he fell out of his chair. He looked up to find a stern looking buffalo glaring down at him. He'd fallen asleep in the office, he realised. The yellow hues of sunrise were visible out of the office windows. At least he wouldn't have to go to sleep again, he thought cheerfully then paused. Since when was he the glass half-full guy, that was Carrots' gig, not his.

The Chief was still gazing steadily down at him. "Is there a reason you thought Precinct One would be more comfortable than your own bed, officer Wilde?"

Nick was way too befuddled for this. Trick question, did he have a bed? No, not during summer. During summer, he had a deck chair under a bridge to sleep on. During winter, he had a mattress in Finnick's van, but the little fennec fox had been adamant that one fox malting and stinking up the place was enough in the hotter months. So in a way, the Precinct was a comfier option. But he doubted the Chief would accept that answer. "Can I get a coffee before we start, Chief?"

"No. Have you got your report on the Sahara Square case?"

Nick looked at a manila folder on his desk, amid all the clutter. It was the last thing he remembered finishing before he zonked out. That and rigging the air horn under Delgado's seat. He gave Bogo a triumphant smile before holding it up in the air. "All done Chief!"

"It's late." was the gruff reply as a large hoof snatched the report from his paw. Did he expect a pat on the back? No, not really. But a 'well done' shouldn't have been too difficult.

Maybe it was. Or would be, once the buffalo read the report. He wouldn't be happy that Nick had contradicted his partner; the Precinct's prize bunny officer. Judy wouldn't either. But he'd done it for her, even if she never understood that. He couldn't just let an injustice go by, that's what it meant to be a good cop. And Judy was blind to the injustice, maybe rightfully so given her species. So he'd said so in his report. It was either that or spring the fox from the holding cells. But Judy Hopps would never forgive him for _that_.

But Judy trusted him to be a good cop, believed in him like only one other person ever had in his whole life. And he wouldn't betray it. For as long as he was able because really he already knew it wouldn't last, but for her he'd try. So he'd had to do something.

He vaguely hoped the Chief would put off reading it, so he wouldn't face the consequences of his typed words. Yeah, maybe he'd have the day to relax before he was thrown into the fryer.

There was a reason Nick was never an optimist. Hope always seemed to turn around and bite him in the ass. Possibly just to spite him. He'd been called into the chief's office twenty minutes later. 8.20am the clock on the wall said, the minute hand seemed to point at Nick as though laughing at him and calling its buddies to do the same. And then Judy had shown up five minutes later, looking completely lost as to why they were here. Nick bit back a wince of foreknowledge.

A small part of him prayed he'd be left out of it. That his report wouldn't come up and would instead be addressed anonymously. Again Hope bit him in the ass when the Chief directly quoted a passage from his report.

"This is an issue we need to discuss." The big buffalo concluded, and Nick found his tail to be incredibly interesting. It was long and bushy, the strands of fur soft. He didn't think he'd ever been so fascinated by it. It was the strangest gift of evolution, that they'd developed another limb that had neither fingers nor thumbs. It was just there. Imagine not having a tail; that would suck balls. Even Carrots had a small little cotton ball of a thing. Not that he'd noticed all that often. Or looked...

Much.

At the thought of her, he spared a look, hoping she wasn't expecting it. She apparently was. She was staring at him with that same mix of indignation and hurt from his nightmare and he was glad his eyes hadn't paused in the general area of the fore mentioned tail. Way to make a guy feel relaxed. He decided he was never going to look at her below the neck again. Suddenly he felt the urge to say something.

"Listen, I should explain..." he started. His hands outstretched as though he was taming a rampaging beast. The rabbit in front of him wasn't the generally accepted definition of such, but neither was a sheep considered an average criminal mastermind.

"Your report was pretty clear, Wilde." Bogo cut him off, that ass. "You do believe James Reynard is innocent don't you?"

That was the question wasn't it. Even Carrots was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reply. He hesitated, but not because he was unsure. He could lie. Say it was some practical joke. Do something to protect this fragile partnership. He sighed, "Yes."

"Do you agree with him, Hopps?"

Her voice was startlingly when she answered and he felt like he'd been iced by an arctic shrew. "No sir."

Bogo apparently paused for effect. That was disconcerting, Clawhauser was meant to be the only diva in the Precinct. But the buffalo's expression was still incomprehensibly stern, and Nick felt like he was in a court room rather than his boss's office. "And why is that?"

"The evidence says otherwise Sir."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Officer."

Nick couldn't believe this, had his report meant nothing to them. "Sir?"

"I don't take kindly to my officers spending the night asleep at their desks. That reflects a serious issue, especially if it comes up in court. I'm sorry Wilde, but you've left me no choice. I'm putting you on two days paid leave."

What the fuck? Was it National Nick Wilde Hate day or something? He was trying to be a good cop. Why was no one seeing that? Then Bogo turned abruptly to Judy, his face furrowing. "Hopps, I'll assign you another partner temporarily at rollcall, now you are dismissed. I want to talk to Wilde privately."

Judy nodded. But not before she turned a scathing look on Nick, and he remembered how the joke about being terrified of her started. It wasn't a joke. She would kick his ass unless he talked his way out of it. The roles of predator and prey had nothing to do with it.

Then she was gone. Nick no longer felt like an ant some kid had taken a spyglass too. He let out a sigh of relief once the door was closed.

He turned to the Chief, his gaze defiant and chin held high. He was not wrong. Reynard was innocent. The boss of the buffalo's horns rose slightly as the ZPD Chief looked incredulously at Nick's stubborn gaze.

"Alright cut that out Wilde." Bogo finally said.

"After you just..." Nick couldn't keep his voice from rising but stopped abruptly when the Chief raised a hoof. No matter how much of a pain in the ass the chief was, he was still the one in charge.

"Yes, officially I have placed you on 48 hours leave until we convict the suspect. Unofficially you can do whatever you like with that time." The Chief waved his hoof in the air, like a conductor waving a baton. "For example if you happened to find confirming evidence that James Reynard didn't commit the crime during this time, well we won't arrest him will we."

Nick stared up at his boss with confusion, his head felt like he'd gone toe-to-toe with McHorn. "Why would you? After everything you just said?"

"I told you that I wouldn't question your motivation if you told me you could do what's need to be done. You did. And despite what happened all those years ago, I still try to believe my police officers. Is there anything else?"

Understanding passed through him. Bogo was giving him a chance, because Nick was worried about the case, not because he agreed with him. The fox shook his head numbly as he stood up. "No sir."

"Dismissed then." The cape buffalo went back to reading paperwork, his posture as though nothing at all had happened.

Nick slipped out the room, glad that Carrots wasn't in immediate sight. He needed to get his head together, plan his attack. 48 hours wasn't a lot of time to conduct an investigation, realistically. But all he really needed to do was prove Reynard was innocent.

He allowed himself a smirk, forty-eight hours had become a reoccurring theme in his life. It was the same amount of time Carrots had been given to complete her case over six months ago, the one he'd helped her with. It would've been nice to have her help him on this case, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Not after this morning.

He was oddly surprised not to find the furious bunny waiting to tear him a new one. She wasn't one to procrastinate, even with arguments. But he wouldn't look the gift horse in the mouth, he was perfectly happy delaying their confrontation.

Hopefully she wouldn't find him until this was all over. He'd have his proof then. At which point she'd see the truth and apologise profusely. He'd play the charming gentleman he was and accept it, only saying 'I told you so' twice at the most. He let out a happy sigh, that sounded good.

Again Hope is a bitch. She found him in the locker room, with his shirt unbuttoned and sliding off his shoulders. He froze, kind of unnerved to be topless in front of an animal that by all rights was his prey and feeling vulnerable. He thanked evolution that his fur was a colour that covered his deep blush beneath it. Thank god he still had pants on.

Whatever Carrots had been about to say dies as she spots his naked chest. In a clumsy spastic manoeuvre, likened to an epileptic at a night club where the strobe lights flash in time to the horrible sounds of wub wub, she quickly covered her eyes with two splayed paws. Somehow she hadn't realised he'd be changing when she ambushed him in the change rooms. Who'd a thunk it? He barely avoided saying it out loud. But that didn't mean he wouldn't take the opportunity to get the first word in.

"You know Carrots, if you'd wanted to sneak a peak, you could have just asked?" Because there was no way he was going to bring up the matter at hand.

She swallowed and managed to peek up over her fingers. Glaring at him she chided, "This isn't funny Wilde."

He had to chuckle at that. "You have to admit it's sort of funny."

"I'm serious."

"So am I? What are the chances I'd be half-naked in the locker room?" He knew he was only making it worse for himself by goading her, but there was a tiny winy chance he might side step this fight completely. One in a million. But it was still a chance.

He wondered why he never did well in the casino down town.

"Nick." She gritted out in warning, "Why the heck did you do it?"

Nick closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had known this was coming after all. "I told you, he's innocent."

"That's bullsh- baloney. The evidence puts him right there." Her voice had risen, and Nick noticed her foot start to tap.

"What evidence?" Nick laughed again, this one a bit more sarcastic. "A brick and some fur."

"Yes exactly. That's DNA Nick, not just a bit of red carpet in there. Why can't you see that?"

"Oh I see it bunny." He tried to keep his emotions in check. He'd once been really good at it, but not with her it seemed. She was his exception. "But I also see what is not there. For example, where's the loot?"

Carrots' purple eyes rolled dramatically. "He's probably already sold it."

He busied himself with wrapping a Hawaiian shirt, purple this time. It gave him enough time to come up with his argument and speak the words as matter-of-factly as possible. "Then where's the money? I know for sure it's not in his bank account. I already fucking checked."

Bad choice of words, he realised. As he resorted to swearing she visibly enraged, her chest puffing out and her chin rose defiantly. "I can't believe he got to you. Just because he's another fox doesn't mean you-"

Nick stopped her with a sharp chopping motion of his arm, his voice barely coming out calmer than a snarl. How could she say that? He wasn't doing this just because they arrested a fox. "Let me stop you right there Cottontail. Don't say something you're going to regret."

She didn't bat an eyelid, god bless her. "Then don't stab me in the back with your report."

"I wrote the truth." He deflated visibly, he had betrayed her. But she wouldn't listen when he tried to explain, so he'd felt that he had no choice. He was sorry. He was also right, and that knowledge wouldn't let him back down. "I thought that's what a cop is fucking supposed to do."

"Don't pull that shit on me Nick."

"I'm sorry, my mistake. Of course I wouldn't know what I'm talking about, I'm just another fox. Waiting to rob someone fucking blind." If Nick had been a serpent he knew that he would have spat venom with those words. He had never truly heard her swear before, and it was somehow different coming from her than anyone else. But he refused to apologise for his words, he'd been right. She didn't trust him to know what he was doing, he was just a sidekick to her. Someone to chase her heels.

Before she could respond Nick left, refusing to see the effect his words had on her. He left because it had already escalated past the safety point, that imaginary line that you crossed at your own peril. Any further and _he_ would do something he'd regret. Like ruining everything.

His ratty old gym bag hung from his shoulder as he pulled a tie (green and yellow) over his head and made his way for reception, stopping only at his desk to pick up a few notes. He walked out the atrium into the hot weather outside, vaguely hearing some comment about owing an elephant 20 dollars from Clawhauser as he walked past. He didn't say goodbye. He was in too shitty a mood now. His whole body rejected the thought of venturing out in the sunlight, he'd done it one too many times this week, he thought.

But there was work to do. A plan of attack was already forming in his mind, one worthy of a good cop. So he slipped on his sunglasses and began walking towards the subway. He had a university to visit.


	10. Chapter Nine

Nick Wilde quickly remembered why he hated college. He'd attended briefly when he turned twenty after he'd managed to talk his way into a course. Figuring that if he could come up with so many original scams he could come up with a few good stories, he'd enrolled in a creative writing course for half a year before he bailed. It had been his attempt to put the criminal world behind him. Evidently it hadn't worked out.

The two types of people you met in college were either the idiots who thought that a few extra years of sitting in a classroom would make them more important or they were the professors who thought they were more important for the same reason. Just because you wasted four-six years of your life did not mean you were any smarter than the rest of the chumps walking the streets of the metropolis.

But try telling them that. In their eyes, they were all fucking geniuses, even if they all fell for the same cons as the uneducated.

He drearily trudged up to the dorm room. This was the sixth and final interview, and hopefully, it'd shed a little more light than the last five. The idea had hit him while leaving the Precinct; if anyone would know anything about James Reynard's character or recent activities it might be his professors and fellow students.

A chat with the university's dean had successfully narrowed the list. Focusing on the professors and project partners, Nick had used the better part of his day getting conflicting statements about a certain red fox. One witness said he was a pillar of the community, the other said he was a delinquent. The rest featured a similar theme of opposite statements and it was enough to do Nick's head in. He already felt like shit from his argument with Carrots.

He rapped his slender knuckles on the door. He should really have kept his uniform on for this but he'd taken it as an unsaid requirement of his official leave to remove it. Luckily he still had his badge. He believed he could get away with that at least.

He flashed it as the diminutive looking porcupine opened the door. "Mr. Spine, I'm ZPD Officer Wilde. I'd like to have a word if possible."

The spectacled college student's eyes widened at the sight of the badge, or more possibly the sight of the fox beyond it. Seriously, Nick struggled to hold back a growl. This was the sixth time today that one of them had started because he was a fox. But bitching about it wouldn't help him right now. Besides it was only fun to rant about shit if Carrots was there to be annoyed about it.

The porcupine took another second before he nodded his head fervently, his anxiety visible. "Of course, what can I h-help you with Officer?"

Nicholas P. Wilde barely contained his smirk. Perfect. You'd think a self-described genius would wonder why an officer was allowed to work in street clothes, which was a right only detectives had. But so far no one had thought to ask that. Geniuses my russet coloured ass. "Is it alright if we step inside?"

"U-uh..." the kid was seizing up, casting a glance back into the room nervously. What was with this case and all the stutterers? On a hunch, Nick took a sniff of the air emanating from the apartment and... Yes, that was marijuana. For kids so bright, they sure were stupid.

"I'm not here about your recreational drug use kid; I want to talk about a fellow classmate of yours. James Reynard?"

The porcupine blinked once more. It was like someone stuck googly eyes to a pin cushion. A novelty but a complete waste of time. These types of witnesses were the worst, they were too concerned with their own petty problems to help with the big picture. Finally, he seemed to register, "I don't know anything really. We only did one assignment together; I don't usually hang out with his kind."

"His what?"

If there was enough room in the doorway for the porcupine to pinwheel his arms, he would have in his attempt to backpedal. Nick would have found it hilarious if he wasn't holding back his frustration. He suddenly understood why murderers killed people. "I uh... didn't mean anything by... it. Was a simp-ple sli-slip of the ton...tongue."

Nick remembered when he was in training to become an officer, he had been so angry because of the other recruits that he'd called Carrots and ranted at her for close to an hour. He didn't understand how she could have gotten through the academy being so chipper. She'd merely recommended counting backwards from ten. He wasn't sure he believed her; she never stopped long enough to count backwards. Unless counting really fast was another super-bunny power, like a computer spouting binary code. Nevertheless, he used the method frequently, as he did now.

When he reached one he was sufficiently calm enough to speak without barking at the porcupine. His table had even stopped lashing side to side in frustration. Although his muzzle still crinkled back as he said. "Yes, you did. Now tell me or I'm arresting you for possession."

"But you said you wouldn't?"

"Did I? It must have been a simple slip of the tongue." He showed that toothy smile that wolves and foxes seemed to so easily produce. It was that of a predator playing with its prey. "So what exactly is James's kind?"

The porcupine's voice came out in a high-pitched whimper, "A criminal?"

Wait a second. Nick couldn't believe this, "Was that a fucking question? What makes you say that?"

"Well cops don't really ask about innocent people do they?" Spine said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Nick regretted the fact that police brutality was a thing because he'd really like to smack the idiot upside the head.

Instead, he grumbled, "He's a suspect. Nothing's certain yet."

"Oh yeah, I suppose so." The kid sounded like he genuinely hadn't considered that fact.

"So you have no actual evidence that he's done anything wrong?"

Spine spread his arms in an 'I don't know' expression. "No?"

"Was that another questi- You know what? Don't worry." He grumbled as he pulled out his notepad and jotted something down.

Spine craned his neck to try and spy the words but Nick just tilted the paper so it was hidden from view. "Is that it?"

"Yeah kid, I'm not going to stick around and listen to you lie to me. That's an offence by the way."

The porcupine seemed almost hesitant about asking, "But you're not going to arrest me for the uhh... weed?"

"Arrest you? No I've got something much worse." With that, he made his way back down to the university's main building before the prickly student could ask further. He stopped there long enough to ask a receptionist to pull up a file for him before he was out the front gates.

There was one last place he could go to get information about James Reynard. But first, he had to make a phone call. It was with a smirk that he punched the number the receptionist had given him into his phone.

"Hello, Officer Wilde of the ZPD calling... No, Mrs. Spine. It's actually about your son..."

Contrary to popular belief, Nick Wilde does not know everyone. And as a fox, you did not know every other fox in the city. They were very solitary animals. Unlike capybara or zebras who generally did know every other member of their species, foxes could very much to themselves. It was kind of a territorial thing. But Nick always knew a guy who knew a guy.

And there was only one fox who knew practically every other fox in the city. And if he didn't know them, he'd heard of them. He also happened to own the premier 'opportunistic species welcome' bar. A fancy way of saying that he let anyone from any species in and refused service to no one unless he didn't like your attitude, which was a godsend for foxes, weasels, and hyenas. All of whom were known as the untrustworthy mammals. These were the species associated with criminals and commonly refused service and positions of employment. Because of the stigma, and the inability to find work, they resorted to crime as a means to survive and support their families. It was that or resign themselves to working in the factories and sweatshops. The side effect of this was that it only deepened the stereotype that they were untrustworthy and made it even harder to get jobs and find quality service. It was catch twenty-two.

As such they flocked to the 'Robin Hood Hotel' in the Warren sector of the city. Despite the slum aspect of its surrounding neighbourhood, the outside of the pub had a little more thought towards aesthetic. With clean cream coloured walls, a corrugated iron roof, and dark wooden posts, it looked like the sort of place bandits would visit in the wild west. Above an iron veranda curving around both exterior walls of the building, were capitalized green painted letters stating the name of the establishment, with a red arrow piercing through the word 'HOOD'. There were also places to sit outside, with small two person tables made by placing a dark marble top on old fashioned whiskey barrels. The stools were simple industrious metal and potted fern hung from chains above each table. It had been the place to be for a young fox growing up on the streets.

Nick closed the taxi door behind him with a thud, as he stepped out in front of the building. A pair of hyenas sitting outside glanced at him over their heady beers before returning to their conversation, paying him no mind. It was ironic that being a societal conspicuous species made him almost invisible here. Whereas all day he'd been gawked at for his russet fur and bushy tail, here it only made him fit in. But this was the Warren, a poor ghetto district that was bitter and unforgiving, and the Robin Hood was the one warm beacon in the sea of dreary indifference.

He nodded at the two in acknowledgement as he walked past, as was the custom. He could probably make a comment about them drinking at two in the afternoon, but it bordered on hypocrisy. He was also walking into the pub at 2 o'clock.

Whereas the outside had looked loved if a little neglected, the inside revealed what it had looked like in its day. The walls were dark wood up to waist height and warm green wallpaper above; subliminally recalling the forests that its namesake once roamed. The floor was a thick dark carpet that was pleasantly warm under bare paws and wooden closer to the bar where drink spillage was a reoccurrence. The tables here were all the same dark wood as the bar front, and resembled sturdy picnic tables only with a single piece on the top instead of planks. Pool tables and slot machines were a delightful cacophony over at the far end of the building.

All of this was situated so that attention was drawn to the bar itself. With a black marble bar top and an extensive collection of liquor on the shelves behind it. It had seen plenty of friendly intoxicated faces at the twilight of midnight and was witness to the beginnings of many romantic rendezvous. Yet despite being early in the afternoon, the place was still busy. Foxes and weasels sat on their own around the dimly lit room and hyenas crammed into booths. There was the occasional other animals like badgers, coyote, wolves and Tasmanian devils but they were few and far between. Nick took a seat at the far end of the bar.

Almost immediately he was recognised. "Well if it isn't little Nicky Wilde. All grown up." A raspy voice called out from down the bar.

"Todd Stewart," Nick said as he turned with a smile, "it hasn't been that long old man. How have you been?"

It was hard not to like Todd Stewart; a red fox with more coffee than auburn on his fur and just a little white around his muzzle, he was the man behind the Robin Hood. A barrel-chested male with arms like tree branches and a liking of comfort and cleanliness, he had been an enforcer in the Irish Mafia almost thirty years before. He'd cut his losses and quit, one of the first to do so without getting whacked, and bought a run down building in the heart of the Warren. Through hard work, determination and a silver tongue he'd transformed it into what it was now. He had a smile for customers, a heavy hand for trouble makers and an ear for gossip, and his memory was like a steel trap. He could still tell you exactly who whacked who forty years ago, where the body was buried and what brand of shoes they were wearing at the time.

"Seven months Nicky, seven months without a word and all you say is it hasn't been that long." The fox rested his maroon forearms on the counter in front of him, looking Nick up and down. "But I've been alright. Can't complain anyway. You're looking alright, you finally started eating something other than those horrible pawpsicles did you?"

Nick shook his head slightly, the smile still there. "You give me too little credit Todd, I've been taking care of myself since I was twelve."

" _I've_ been taking care of you since you were twelve, kid."

"Who are you calling kid? I'm thirty-two."

It was Todd's turn to chuckle. "You'll always be a kid to me grasshopper. Scotch?"

Nick shrugged, it was enough of a confirmation for the old fox who quickly poured out a double shot of the dark liquid. Subtly Nick added, "I'm actually here on business."

"You know the rules Nicky, conduct your business here all you want but if it goes south you take it outside." The underlying threat was that Todd would make you go outside otherwise. Despite his crisp green button up shirt, black vest, and dress pants, Todd Stewart was always ready to deal with unruly patrons, no matter what crimes they were involved with.

Nick shook his head again, pursing his lips as he phrased his explanation. "Not that kind of business Todd. I'm no longer in the game."

"So the rumours are true. I heard you were a cop now."

"I heard you wear high heels and a lace corset out back when no one is in."

The fox burst out laughing as he patted the bar top hard to stop himself laughing, "You catch me doing that one time and now you'll never let it go. Yes, I crossdress Nicky."

Nick grinned widely, taking a sip of the strong drink in front of him. He wasn't the type to skull shots. "And I am a cop."

The bartender took a long hard look at Nick, the fox he'd known since a kit, and then shrugged. Todd was a character, and despite coming from an era where such taboos were considered heinous, he was incredibly open-minded. "My dirty secret makes me feel beautiful, what's your excuse?"

Nick leaned in conspiratorially; whispering under his breath like it was a forbidden secret. "You know that missing mammals case a while back? All those predators missing and going savage?"

The darker fox nodded along, his brow furrowing as he replied. "Yeah, it was all over the news. Bad shit, even for the old days. A bunny cracked it didn't she?"

"Yeah, it was ZPD officer Judy Hopps." Nick jerked a thumb at his chest, "I was consulting on the case. She showed me I could be more than a crooked fox, even if it's only a beat cop. She asked me to be her partner."

Todd seemed genuinely impressed. "I heard she had help, news never said it was a fox."

"I attended the academy straight after, but the city didn't want to credit its continued survival with a known conman." Then he took his glass and finished the last of the scotch whiskey, a cheap bitter brand that he'd been practically raised on during his teenage years. Todd Stewart didn't exactly have any regard for legal ages, but otherwise, he'd been a good parental figure.

With the drink done, it was the unspoken signal that small talk was over. Todd leaned over further. "So what do you want Nicky?"

"I need to know about a certain fox, thought you might have heard of him."

Todd pulled back ever so slightly. "Is this for a case?"

"Yeah." Nick accompanied it with a sharp nod.

The bartender spread his paws apologetically, "Listen you're like a son to me Nicky but I'm not going to help you put one of us in a cell."

Nick shook his head with a smirk, he'd anticipated that response. He tapped the bar top with two red fingers in point. "I'm not trying to put him in a cell; I'm trying to keep him out of one."

The old fox blinked once before leaning back, crossing his arms in an 'oh really' expression. "Explain."

"There was a robbery down in Sahara Square, a computer place." Nick gestured for Todd to lean in again as he swivelled his head around. He knew he wasn't allowed to discuss the details of the case, but Todd had always been trustworthy. "Fur at the scene lead us to a James Reynard, also found the same type of brick in his backyard that was used to break into the place. ZPD's convinced it's him."

"But you think differently?"

Another nod."Yeah, and I've got two days to try to clear him."

"You know Nicky, I'm an old hand on the other side of the law. But even I have to admit, if the evidence points at them they've usually done it. Framing people isn't done as often as the telly would like you to believe."

Nick waited a beat. "But?"

"But," Todd scratched the scruff of his neck in thought, "I think you're right. What was the guy's name again?"

Nick had no doubt that Todd remembered the name perfectly. As he said, steel trap. But Todd wasn't above a dramatic flair. "James Reynard."

As expected, Todd made a show of thinking it over. A single claw bobbed along in the air as he 'recalled' the information. "Reynard... Jimmy Reynard? He's Frank's boy. And a friend of my Sean's, they played together as kits I think. Goes to the University of Politics and Law doesn't he?"

Playing along, Nick smiled in confirmation. "That's the one."

A shrug. "He came in here once or twice, I think he had his twenty-first here last year."

"What's he like?"

"Good kid, for a fox." Todd rolled his shoulders as his hands moved animatedly, painting a picture with his motions. It was times like this that Nick was sure the guy had worked for the Italian mob instead of the Irish. "Wants to be a politician or something, if I recall. Argue for equal treatment of the 'opportunistic' species."

Nick nodded once again, _that_ was intriguing. "Sounds like a saint, compared to some kits I know."

"Don't get me wrong," The bartender held his hands up as if he was signing pulling the brakes on a locomotive, "the kid has a big mouth and a temper. But I doubt he'd be involved with anything criminal."

"That's what I thought," Nick grumbled.

There wasn't a lot that they could pursue regarding the situation, it only confirmed that James wasn't the type to rob a store. It wasn't actually proof and Nick needed to go out and find some. But it didn't stop Nick from chatting with the older fox a little longer. The Robin Hood was nice and relaxing after the two days of hell that he'd already been through.

So they talked about inconsequential things, like how hot it was outside and how Todd's son Sean was doing. Nick had purposely chosen this seat at the glass washing station of the bar so they could talk while Todd worked. But it wasn't long before another familiar face made an appearance.

"Is that Nick Wilde? My, oh my, it's been a while." A sultry voice called from the hotels front door. A particularly curvaceous arctic fox was already stalking over, her hips swaying like a pendulum and her tail swishing lazily, catching and drawing the eye to said region.

Nick withheld a cringe, regretting returning to his old hunting ground. The snow white vixen was named Esmeralda, and she was a particularly bitter reminder of stupid decisions. While her feminine curves and glossy coat were enough to make anyone drool, she was better likened to a femme fatale than a glowing princess. Behind her upheld snout and teasing smile was a pair of intelligent green eyes, a shade brighter than Nicks, but too cold by far. She had led him astray on more than one occasion and he'd been left to handle the consequences. Not that Nick had needed any persuading, there was something about perky breasts and long slender legs that pulled at you like a magnet, the pull definitely more substantial in the flesh of his member.

Nick noted with amusement that Todd had drifted off down the bar, under the guise of tending to other customers. It was a ruse, Todd was successful enough that he had two bartenders on his payroll and he was only far enough away that it wasn't obvious he was eavesdropping. Except that one of his ears stayed cocked in Nick's direction, eager for juicy secrets. "Hello, E. Fancy meeting such a pretty thing in a place like this."

She had reached his elbow and propped herself up on the stool next to him, leaning her body forward towards him. "You always were a flatterer Nick. It's enough to make a girl blush."

Nick knew from experience there were very few things that could make Esmeralda redden, and flirting was definitely not one of them. Nevertheless, he supplied a cheesy grin. "I was talking about myself."

"Same old Nick," she huffed, "so are you going to buy a girl a drink or what?"

"Same old Snow White, but I'm here for work, not play."

A pout, making the blood red of her lipstick present itself. Her colour scheme had earned her the storybook nickname, and she'd decided to own it. "You're no fun. But if you're looking for work, I got a job lined up. Good one too, like we used to do. We can talk about it while we play, a girl's good at multitasking like that."

Nick remembered exactly what type of job that implied. High risk, high reward; usually coordinated so that he took all the risk, and she took all the reward. Stupid odds really, but when it was suggested in between her moving along the length of his foxhood during their 'play', he didn't really have the presence of mind to worry about details. Now he thought he'd exercise some control. "Thanks, but no thanks sugar. Once bitten, twice wary and all that... or more like thrice bitten, finally wary."

She had the nerve to giggle at that, her lower lip withdrawing into her mouth to be bitten teasingly. "If I recall Nick, you actually enjoyed a little biting. It'll be fun."

And it would be, Nick knew for certain. He could vividly recall how much fun it had been. As much of a piece of work as she was, she knew her art. Another younger Nick wouldn't have hesitated if only for the sex, after all she was a bombshell and exactly what a twenty-three-year-old Nick Wilde had envisioned as the definition of sexy when he first met her.

But now Nick just couldn't feel that same level of attraction. He wished her pure white fur was a little darker and that her eyes were a different vibrant colour. Violet was a nice shade. Or that her voice didn't have that fake tenor you associated with a porn star, but instead something more genuine.

Then again it might have just been their history influencing her desirability. "No dice sweetie. Been there, done that."

"You never know Nicky, you might have missed something the first time."

Nick remained deadpan. He was usually all for sweet talking the opposite sex, but this was one woman who deserved a little rudeness. "I'm sure there are more easy marks elsewhere around here. Get moving sweetheart."

Finally, her snout dropped in a scowl, revealing for a moment the ugliness underneath. She stepped past him, her slender shoulder checking him as she paused to retort. "Pity, it's been too long since you took me for a walk on the Wilde side. You know where to find me if you change your mind hon."

Nick didn't watch her go, instead choosing to wince at the reference to the corny pick-up line he'd used in his twenties. In his defence, 'taking a walk on the Wilde side' had seemed like brilliant wordplay to a younger fox.

When he opened his eyes again, Todd was back in front of him. Leaning over the bar as though he'd never left. Sometimes Nick swore, the dude wasn't even fucking real. But there was a hysterical grin on the older foxes face.

"You know there's such a thing as privacy old man?"

Without missing a beat Todd replied, "Why if you take me for a walk on the Wilde side Nick, you can tell me all about it."

"If you mention that to Finn, ex-mafia or not, I will bury you six feet under." Nick warned with a raised finger.

"Old man I may be, but I'm still spry enough to deal with you pipsqueak." They both burst into laughter simultaneously, the kind shared by two friends over an inside joke known only to them. When they finally sobered up enough to speak seriously, the older fox added, "So who is she?"

Nick raised an eyebrow, glancing at the white vixen already batting her eyelashes at a young fox across the hotel. There was no way Todd didn't already know of her. "Esmeralda?"

"No you moron. The girl you're seeing."

Nick was immediately on the defence. It was easy to forget Todd was more than a gossip with a liquor licence. Like most foxes he was smart. "Who says I'm seeing anyone?"

A roll of the eyes and a shake of the head, "I've watched you chase her tail like a lovesick puppy for almost ten years now. Nothing I or anyone else said could stop you. And now you can't seem to be rid of her fast enough?" He raised an eyebrow pointedly, "Either Wilde's wizened up or you're on another vixen's leash. So who is the unlucky girl?"

Nick couldn't hold back a smirk even as he felt his face redden; the old man was still sharp as a whip. "I'm not on anyone's leash Todd." A heartbeat later he added on a whim, "And she's not a fox."

If Todd was overly surprised he didn't react other than to widen his eyes minutely, "I thought you were finished dabbling in the inter-species stuff. What was that coyote bitch's name again?"

Nick inwardly groaned at the reminder of another dumb decision. Admittedly she had been a lot nicer than Esmeralda. "Janet. And I thought I passed that phase too, but the heart wants what the heart wants or something."

"If you want her so bad, why haven't you just asked her? I never knew Nick Wilde to be subtle when it came to, well this."

It was Nick's turn to convey his meaning through a wave of his hands. "It's a little more complicated than it was with Jan. There're all sorts of reasons not to."

"Like what?" Regardless of the fact that Todd Stewart had once been in charge of breaking knee caps and busting heads, he leant forward pointedly. He loved a story, even a sappy unrequited crush story. Nick had seen his chick flick collection.

Nick raised an eyebrow and knew it was better to just answer the question. But at the moment something was bothering him; his mind was flickering back to his conversation with Esmeralda. It was something she'd said that nagged at his brain like a whiny toddler.

With a start, he remembered it with a snap of his fingers. An idea was already forming in his vulpine skull as it related itself to his case. Quickly as if the thought was fleeting and he only had a finite amount of time to act on it, he dug out a couple bills from his wallet and flattened them on the bar top. "Sorry Todd, I gotta go. Duty calls and all that."

The older fox squawked indignantly, "What about your girl problems? You have to give me some details Nicky. Nicky!"

Nick waved Todd's protest off with a red paw. "I will, I promise. Just later."

"You better." Despite his words and threatening tone the older fox was shaking his head ruefully, "And bring your girl with you next time."

"Night Todd." Nick threw over his shoulder as he walked out of the doors. Maybe it was the scotch but he felt like his crime fighting senses were tingling like he was finally on the right track as the words of one arctic fox kept coming back to him:

" _You never know Nicky, you might have missed something the first time."_


	11. Chapter Ten

Thank fuck Nick hadn't had his epiphany earlier in the afternoon, he thought optimistically. It was a rather uncharacteristic moment for him; he wasn't the glass half-full guy. But it was almost dark and the lack of sunlight had cooled down the empty car park brilliantly. It was no longer stiflingly humid. He revelled in the way the breeze tugged at the fur of his throat and arms. He also didn't feel like he was releasing his body weight in fur and sweat anymore. Thank fuck. He thought again.

The car park in Sahara Square was tinged pink from the sunset and the palm trees cast long dark shadows. It was like shadowy fingers reaching out for the computer shop over a sea of rose. Possibly something out of a twisted children's book, the fingers pointing to the scene of the crime, he decided. (Maybe the kind of book you'd find in a serial killers daycare, where crimes were illustrated with stick figures. And clown faces. He shivered at the thought, he hated clowns.)

Only it was no longer a crime scene. Not visually anyways.

The window was fixed, the police tape removed and a sign was on the door listing its service hours. There was even a picture of the rabbit owner himself on the laminated sign, thumbs up and winking. What a narcissistic jackass, Nick sneered. A normal open hour's sign just wouldn't do.

Regardless, it appeared Thumper hadn't wasted any time cleaning the place back up.

It was just as well, Nick knew he would pick up nothing from the inside of the shop. Carrots had bagged the evidence in there and even if she was wrong in her suspicions, she was thorough to a fault when it came to police procedure. Nick admittedly tended to waver on that property.

He turned around to the car park, taking it all in and recalling the various details of the case as if seeing them for the first time. It was a trick he'd learnt in the academy, a loose alternative to that 'fresh eyes' idiom. He automatically assumed that the red fox fur was placed as an aptly coloured herring, as well as the brick. But everything else was credible. He paused. When he proved himself right, he wouldn't mention those last couple sentences of thought to Carrots. She'd flay him alive and wear his fur as a coat for ignoring evidence. Or out of spite, who knew right now.

But something _was_ bothering him about the scene in front of him.

It took him several minutes of introspection to realise exactly what it was. No skid marks, he realised. He recalled the list of stolen inventory, and with the amount of hardware looted; it would take at least a van to move it all. And that left two observations.

Firstly, that James Reynard didn't own a van. Or at least not that Nick was aware of, but it wouldn't be too hard to check on. Bank records would reveal something he was sure. Unless he borrowed a friend's vehicle, then that was a bit harder to prove. But at least most rental places required a credit card or ID, so they were simpler.

Secondly, the perp didn't leave in a hurry. No skid marks meant no rush to leave. This wasn't the sort of getaway job you associated with a smash and grab. Especially a literal smash and grab; Nick knew from experience the sound of a brick smashing a window draws attention real quick, regardless of the time of day. And yet the crook hadn't been in a hurry to leave.

So they were looking at a professional.

Nick bit back a groan. Grunting and sighing to himself in an empty parking lot wasn't exactly professional. It was a one-way trip to the Precinct's psychiatrist. But now that they were dealing with a professional, he wanted to rebel a little. When you dealt with people who committed robberies for a living, all sorts of rules went out the window. They knew the playbook.

He ventured further into the car park, away from the shop. The neighbourhood around it was silent save for the cars screaming past the highway in all different shapes and sizes as they carried everything from shrews to elephants. Anyone else would consider it remarkable how they could have created a system that allowed all sizes of mammals to commute throughout the city. Nick however just found it chaotic. Rather than just looking left and right, you also had to look up and down, constantly on alert like a meerkat standing sentry. It was why Nick insisted on Carrots driving, he didn't have the patience or dedication for it.

The palm trees were still swaying slightly in the breeze, like belly dancers moving to a slow song. Nick found his eyes returning to them continuously. It was a fact that exasperated him, surely there was nothing important regarding them. Except that it was where Reynard had apparently loitered whilst performing reconnaissance on the place. Curious, Nick walked over to the nearest tree as though he expected the reason for the unusual behaviour would be carved into it. It wasn't so. Of course, it wasn't, things were never that easy. But he looked around.

There was nothing. No evidence that a fox had even been there. The solid pavement prevented footprints and there wasn't even the litter of cigarette butts to indicate someone waited there. He knew James wasn't a smoker, but chainsmoking would have explained it somewhat. He scrunched his snout up as he narrowed his eyes, looking for any clue at all. Knowing it was futile, he glanced up to check the other trees as well.

Futile. It seemed everything was futile in this city. The advertisement, propaganda he called it, stated anyone could be anything in this city. So far Carrots was the only example he'd seen of a successful dream, and she was the needle in the haystack. Even then it was a fluke. Nothing came easy in Zootopia, not dreams, and not evidence to prove a fox's innocence.

Wait a sec.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked again at the trees. The fading sunlight glinted dully off the trunks of the waving palms, but an odd hue came off the side of the furthest one. His feet shuffled closer automatically like a hobo seeking out warmth.

Stuck to the side of the tree trunk, impaled in the ground as though it's been a stake the tree was tied to as a sapling to make it grow properly, was a metal pole. It looked like the type you'd find a sign attached to. It was dull, the metal slightly rusted and warped from the severe temperature difference of Sahara Square's night and day cycle, but it couldn't have been placed there more than a few years ago he figured. His eyes roaming to the top of it, he found a chunky metal box with a circular lens and an antenna sticking out of it. A camera.

"Big brother's watching you..." he chuckled under his breath before turning around, Carrots still didn't believe he'd ever read a book, let alone one with such a literary reputation. He couldn't help wondering why the camera would be placed in such a spot; it wasn't exactly hidden if that had been their intention. From its viewpoint, it'd probably only cover half the parking lot and the pavement alongside the busy road. And the bus stop down the street, he added.

Something clicked. Three years or so ago there had been a surge in violent assaults at bus stations. At first, the cops had thought it was a part of the escalating gang violence, the city had experienced. But slowly a different story had risen to make itself known. Typically the attacks had been orchestrated by bigoted herbivores who didn't want predators riding the same bus as them. Getting to the point where Todd had pulled Nick aside one night at the bar, and forbid him from working his scam for a few weeks.

But it wasn't long before the predators retaliated and began harassing and attacking prey species until the city was reeling with the words 'hate crime' on the tip of their tongues. It was the brink of Zootopia's coexistence ending that ex-mayor Lionheart and Dawn Bellwether had installed a brand new policy.

Every bus stop and train station around the city would have video surveillance as deterrence. After a week in which the ZPD must have been very busy with arrests, it's worked. The penalties had been severe and, most of all, unbiased towards either group. The public tension quickly resolved at how it had been handled in such a diplomatic way because they had emphasized the importance of everyone's safety. It was probably the one good thing Assistant Mayor Bellwether did.

Nick felt a flood of revitalizing warmth as he stared up at the camera. It also had a full view of the strip of palm trees. It could alibi James Reynard out. He allowed himself a weary smile, for once it didn't feel like this case would never end.

It felt like it was never going to end.

He'd found the camera's video footage easily on the secure network that all the city's traffic and transport cams stored their data on. His first agenda was to identify that Reynard wasn't casing the joint. So he rewinded it back to the date that Reynard had first walked into the store weeks ago, before he supposedly began loitering in the car park, and played at 12x speed from there. But it was still a shitload of footage to process. He kept turning to throw a joke over his shoulder at Carrots, eager to hear her voice instead of the insufferable silence.

But her desk was empty. It was past eight o'clock at night and she'd gone home. Perhaps to throw darts at a picture of Nicholas P. Wilde, it wouldn't surprise him. Judy Hopps was the nicest, happiest person Nick had ever met, but she was a force to be reckoned with. That's probably why he liked her so much.

He stared ahead at the screen once more. Away from where that thought was going.

Countless cars sped by at the speed of light, showing up as no more than glimpses before they disappeared. Every half an hour of footage time a bus pulled up and you could vaguely identify people moving in and out of the shot. But there were no foxes yet. His eyelids became heavy as he continued watching out of spite.

It wasn't until he got three days of footage in that a red blur appeared in the corner. He froze it, sure enough, there was their fox. On screen Reynard moved under the shade of a palm tree, watching ahead of him. Loitering just like Thumper had said. Only he wasn't looking at the shop. He was looking towards the flimsy shelter of the bus stop, where a group of mammals sat glaring back at him. They were all prey, Nick noticed.

Minutes later when the bus pulled up, the fox on screen waited until they'd all boarded before dashing ahead to get on as the doors closed. Nick suddenly knew why he'd been waiting under those palm trees, and it made him taste bile; acidic and disgusting. His muzzle clamped shut as he stamped out the urge to be sick.

This was what Carrots didn't get; what she didn't see. She'd caught glimpses sure. A whisper of a childhood dream destroyed. A snapshot of a fox witness mistrusted by police. But she didn't truly see. It was why Nick gave James the benefit of the doubt when his partner told him not to. It was why he'd gone behind her back in the report. A bunny just wouldn't get it. Things were different for foxes.

He fast forwarded again to the next time Reynard supposedly reconned the shop, a day later. It was the same then as well, and the two times after. It seemed Nick's theory was proved as the analogue digits in the lower corner of the screen closed to the day of the robbery.

The next agenda pricked Nick's conscious. Maybe he could catch the vehicle leaving the scene. He let the video spin on, eyes counting down with the number until the time of the robbery. Sure enough, something happened at two in the morning the day that Nick and Judy were called in. The camera's cut out.

Not as in turned off, cut to black sort of thing. Nick almost didn't notice it, he was so damn tired. But one second it was the dead of night, the electronic numbers reading **02:09:45** and then the sunlight was switched on and the parking lot was lit. In the edge of the screen, you could see the corner of one broken glass window. Nick's eyes shot awake like Judy had walked in and slapped him hard in the face as her final revenge. He checked the time again.

 **09:57:22**

Now either he'd just fallen asleep at his desk, admittedly a not so farfetched idea after last night, or someone had cut the tape. Or shut down the entire camera and restarted it eight hours later. It was a sobering thought. Pro job, his brain whispered teasingly.

"Fuck." He said to the empty office. That was his one lead gone.

Sure he'd proven that James Reynard was innocent of casing the place. But it didn't deny his involvement with the theft. And Nick had a feeling that nothing would until they caught the real crook.

His paw went to his phone, tempted to call it into Carrots. But it felt like he was admitting defeat, calling her without any actual evidence. But it was her case too. Maybe she'd see something different, might agree that all the evidence against Reynard didn't add up. Maybe she'd agree with him.

But maybe she won't, a voice of doubt insisted.

It was the same voice of doubt that mocked him every day for trying to be a cop. How could he be stupid enough to believe he could do something good with his life? It taunted. He sighed deeply, feeling the cream coloured fur of his chest rustle against his shirt fabric as he did so.

But Judy believed in him, even if she didn't believe him right now. Carrots thought he could be a good cop, and she hadn't given up on him yet. So he wouldn't give up on her. He pressed her contact picture and raised the phone to his black tipped ear, listening to its pleasant ring.


	12. Chapter Eleven

She didn't pick up on the first try. Nick looked over at the clock digits on his computer, it was only nine-thirty so it wasn't that late. Maybe the energiser-bunny was recharging her batteries. Smaller mammals did tend to tire themselves out quicker than their larger counterparts.

Or she was hating him right now. This was a lot more plausible but never being one to take a subtle hint, Nick called her again. She picked up on the seventh ring, he knew because he counted. After a monotone click, her voice sounded through the earpiece. "What do you want, Nick?"

Was it his imagination or did she sound pissed? "Hey Carrots, how you doing?" he said with all the considerable charm a sly fox could muster.

"What do you want Nick?" Repeated the flat reply. She was definitely lacking in terms of banter tonight.

"Are you okay, Carrots?" He knew he should stop antagonising her and just get on with it. And he was trying to. But Nick had never been good at making smart decisions, how else did he end up on the street selling pawpsicles? Not through academic excellence, that's for sure. And when he heard her voice he wanted to get a laugh out of it, or a witty retort.

He could almost see her thumping her foot in frustration as she said, " _I'm_ fine. Now if you've got nothing to actually tell me, I'm going to say good night."

If he wasn't such a well-trained investigator, Nick might think she didn't want to talk to him. Good thing he was, otherwise he'd feel hurt. He had gone through all that trouble to get new leads. "Whoa, whoa wait. This isn't a social call sweetheart; I've got some new information about the case."

There was a pause. "The case?"

Absently he wished he had one of those old cord phones, so he could twirl it around his finger as he leant back in his chair. He couldn't keep the smugness out of his voice as he told her. "Yeah the Sahara Square job, I found some new evidence."

" _You_ are working the case?"

He rolled his eyes. That was what she was interested in? Not the evidence he had, "Uh yeah, what else would I be doing?"

If he hadn't known he was talking to a bunny, he would have flinched at the sound of the voice on the other line. As it was he still did. But he'd never tell her that. It sounded more like a panther growling than a diminutive rabbit gritting her teeth around the words. "You are on leave; you should be _leaving_ the case alone!"

"Oh yeah, that thing." He muttered automatically, he had forgotten.

He could practically hear her thumb moving to hang up. Desperately he called out, "Wait, wait a second. You are the one always telling me to put in more effort with this job, Carrots. So I took the time out of my busy schedule and dug up some solid leads onto the real burglar."

"THE REAL BURGL-. You know what? Fine." He could hear her physically trying to calm down, probably pulling her ears over her eyes. The darkness settled her as well as it did any wild animal. Usually anyway. Not that he thought she was a wild animal, but when she finally spoke her tone had been lowered to a death threat. "What is this breakthrough you've uncovered?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked." Nick leant further back in his chair and propped his hind legs up on the desktop in front of him. He was purposely vague with the first bite of information, she didn't need to know all the omitted details. "I spoke with someone who knew James, and they said that he wasn't into anything criminal."

"Oh, so another crook says he's not a crook, let's release him straight away slick." You definitely didn't need to be a detective to hear the sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Hey, Todd is not a croo-. Actually, forget that." Maybe Todd wasn't the most impressive character witness, law enforcement wise. "I also found a security camera in the parking lot of the computer store. Just pulled the footage."

"So who does the camera show breaking into the store?"

Nick suddenly found a great interest in his tail again. "Actually, it wasn't facing the store. And it was turned off from two to ten in the morning on the day of the robbery." Why did she have to go ruin his evidence with her logic like that? "But it does show that James Reynard was not casing the joint, like your pal 'Ollie the Wally' said."

"So you can't prove Reynard didn't break in at all?" The words were slow and measured, punctuated with a sigh at the end of the question. It wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for. "Nick next time you want to interrupt my night over a case, have some actual evidence."

"Interrupt your ni- Wait a sec, what is that?" Now that he listened he could hear the gentle background chatter of voices and the clinking of glassware and cutlery. It was the ambience of a restaurant, a fancy one. He could tell by the tone of the glasses. "Are you on a date? I didn't know you were dating anyone Carrots."

Another pause, then an aggravated huff. "Yeah well there's a lot of things you don't know about me. Good night Nick."

He sat up straight, no longer feeling overjoyed at the progress of the case or the strength of their partnership. His stomach was feeling heavy and he was aware of the drumming sound of his heart beating in his tightening chest. However, he forced himself to keep a friendly masquerade up. "Wait, wait. At least tell me who the lucky fella is."

"Night Nick."

The phone clicked loudly before descending into punishing silence. Dropping the phone on his desk Nick muttered to no one, "No you hang up first."

He didn't feel so hot anymore, the evidence wasn't that great after all, he'd admit. And he hadn't meant to argue with her, it just happened. When he talked to her, any reaction he got from her was worth it, be it a smile or an insult. Until he put his foot in his mouth.

Now there was a sour taste in his mouth as well, and after a moment he recognised it. Jealousy. It was such a long-forgotten feeling and he has to fight the urge to trace Judy's phone and stalk her. He might have been a no good fox, but he'd respect her that much. Even though it's late, he idly thinks that perhaps a cup of coffee will wipe away the painful flavour. It isn't until he's brewed himself a steaming mug of the dark liquid that he changes his mind. He didn't want a drink. He wanted to sit and wallow in self-pity, like a depressed hippo, until it swallowed him whole.

Catching himself toeing the line towards self-deprecation, he pushed himself up out of his seat. With no solid destination in mind, he let his feet wonder. He was still hung up on Carrots- Judy dating others. But it wasn't like he had any claim to her. He didn't. But he'd let himself hope, just a sliver of it. What had he said about hoping? It's a bitch.

It wasn't like it would have ever worked between them anyway, she was a rabbit and he was a fox. Those two just didn't mix, and they'd been toeing the line with their partnership as it was. Nick let out a loud sigh, the sound falling on an absence of ears in the darkened office room.

Without realising it, he found himself pushing the large double doors open to an area of the Precinct he never visited. It was a large open rooftop garden that separated the south wing of the Precinct building from the north side. Placed here when the building was new, HR had had this notion that Officers and staff needed a tranquil place to distress. For their emotional health.

Nick had never seen the appeal, a cup of coffee was as much of a de-stressor as he needed. But his feet thought differently, and he found himself relishing the fresh air moving through his lungs. He'd avoided this place especially in the summer, where the heat on a rooftop was enough to make a fox casserole out of him. But the night had brought with it a drop in the mercury, just enough for it to be pleasant without requiring a coat.

He noticed a group of cops sitting around one of the tables, joking around as they sipped coffee and smoked cigarettes, but he didn't move to join them. They wore no uniforms, so they were detectives (although neither was he at the moment). Officers and detectives got along about as well as foxes and dogs, sheep and wolves, lions and gazelles. Why else would they be segregated into two separate wings of the Precinct? The southern end of the building housed the ordinary aspects of law enforcement, ie. the beat cops and SWAT units, while the northern side was home to the three divisions of Homicide, Forensics and Federal Investigators. That was why Nick had never really interacted with any of them unless he needed to get a fingerprint or DNA sample run.

But that didn't stop one of them from recognising him as he walked to the rooftops edge. As Nick leant against the railing overlooking the serene Zootopian skyline, an unfortunately familiar voice called out to him, "Hey fox, what are you doing here? I thought you were kicked out. It would be about time."

Nick ground his teeth, he recognised the voice alright. The husky quality of it, and that odd drawl that all dogs seemed to have, was easily recognisable. Joseph Sheppard II, otherwise known as Lucky. He and Nick had been in the same Academy class, a fact the former resented. Lucky didn't like the force tarnishing itself by admitting a vulpine member and had personally made Nick's life hell for the duration of training.

Nick didn't even look over his shoulder as he threw back his retort; he'd rather face E any day of the week than this dirtbag. "Then you need better sources, Joey, because they're feeding you a load of bull. And to think, you call yourself a police officer?"

He heard a growl of annoyance and knew the German Sheppard was padding his way over. The claws of his feet made an irritating clicking motion against the cement floor. "Actually, it's detective, _officer_." He threw Nick's title out as an insult. Because he clearly thought it was. And how the hell did he make detective so fresh out of the Academy? Sure he was the valedictorian but that was a bit too far.

"Congratulations. Did your daddy get you that as well?" Nick said with a smirk, forcing his body to relax even as the detective reached his elbow. Lucky was a police legacy, his father being one of the most decorated detectives in the 90's and one of the few to make it to police captain at the young age of twenty-seven. It was a legend of ZPD lore and had been unofficially taught to every new recruit in the Academy. It was also common knowledge that Joseph Sheppard Senior had groomed his son to follow his footsteps since the pup could walk, instilling in the boy that sense of confident superiority found only in law enforcement and the military. There were further rumours that the father had greased the wheels on his son's progress through the police force. Which might explain why someone who had been in Nick's class of the Academy had already made detective in the homicide precinct that his father was the captain of?

It seemed the dog knew it as well, and his muzzle crinkled back to show glistening canines and Nick battled the urge to jump away. "That's none of your business Wilde. It's your job you should be worrying about; I heard we might be seeing the tail end of you soon."

Now Nick looked up, to see the dogs sneering smirk. Lucky took full advantage of the detectives plainclothes policy, wearing a white t-shirt and pair of dark jeans that showed off all the virility and height the twenty-something-year-old had to offer. His fur was almost completely chocolate brown, save for black marks on his paws and peeking out of his shirt on his scruff. It was clear he paid attention and care to his glossy coat. As if his body had had a meeting to discuss his natural colour combination, his eyes reflected the same deep brown to match. A ZPD badge hung from a chain around the Lucky's neck, like a military dog tag, proudly displayed against his white t-shirt. Snapping out of his analysis, Nick mulled over the words he'd just heard and managed a shit eating grin himself.

"Who told you that? I hope you haven't made a habit of looking for the tail end of me, Lucky. I mean, I'm an open-minded fox and all but I'm straight as a laser beam." Nick knew he was going to get himself a split lip, but he couldn't help it. Foxes and dogs were natural enemies. And then there was that rivalry all through training.

"Shut up Wilde." Was the snarled reply.

Nick held his paws up in a timeout sign, "Okay, okay. Look I'm not judging, I'm sure there's someone out there who thinks your beautiful, besides your mother, but I'm not them." He reached out a paw as if to comfort the old classmate, and brought his other to rest over his heart, "It's not you, it's me."

That got a few laughs from the detectives within hearing distance. Lucky leant in dangerously close, brown maw only inches from Nick's face, "You won't be laughing when you're kicked off the force. The only reason they haven't done it already is because your meal ticket is a little hero, and they don't want the scandal. But I bet she won't be so concerned for long."

Despite telling himself Lucky was just being an ass, Nick stiffened. That had hit a nerve. Maybe because of the tense conversation he'd had with Carrots just before, but he found himself asking. "What makes you say that?"

The German Sheppard laughed, "like you don't know. It takes a certain kind of person to stab their partner in the back, though I guess you can't expect much more from a fox."

He was going to say more, Nick could tell, but he was cut off by another voice, "Lay off him, Joey."

Lucky looked over his shoulder at a wolf standing away from the rest, leaning against a wall in the darkness. The only light that came from him was the luminescent whites of his eyes and the red tip of his cigarette, but Nick could tell the species just by the shape and size of his silhouette. Lucky straightened his back as he called back, "Fuck off Jesse, it's none of your business."

"Cleaning up your messes is my business mate, so get over it." The silhouette dropped the smoking fag and stamped it out with his foot. He started to walk forwards, towards the two arguing canines and as he stepped from the shadows, Nick was taken back by the sight of him. He was a wolf alright, but unlike any wolf Nick had seen. Standing slightly shorter than Fangmeyer and Wolford, he had light orange fur, the colour of a sandy beach. But he was slight as well, with a slim build but broad shoulders, although that could have been an illusion caused by his fur; which was short, like Finnick's. From his canine skull, you could see two blue eyes.

He also wore an odd outfit for a detective. Most of the few Nick had seen or met, preferred to go one of two directions in their wardrobe choice; either sharp suit wear or leather jacket and t-shirt casual like Lucky. Jesse went neither. He wore khaki cargo pants and an untucked navy blue shirt, but it was made of a thick fabric, like the type you'd see on a farmer and the sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He looked like he was ready to go out for a casual hike through a forest, rather than take down bad guys. But there was a certain confidence in the way he carried himself like he was more prepared than anyone else on the job. He carried a wry smirk as though he was amused by the situation.

"Since when do I make messes," Lucky said.

If anything the wolf's eyes twinkled at that, and he licked his lips. It made Nick doubt that this guy meant any better than Lucky did. "Tell that to the guys down in PR, when they find out you got in a bitch fight with the department's first fox officer. They're going to have a fucking field day with you."

"Yeah right. What? Are they going to get mad because I upset the fox?"

"Oh yeah, I can already see the headline," the sand coloured wolf held his paws out like he was framing an imaginary newspaper clipping, "'Daddy's little princess harasses first fox officer because of racial prejudice.'"

Dramatic flair over, Jesse stuffed his paws back into his pockets. Nick noticed he even rocked back and forth on his feet, "Bit harsh, I know but that's what they'll say. I'm just looking out for you bud, they say the best defence against bad press is prevention. So you better walk away."

Lucky moved as if to face the wolf, sneering and lifting his chin to look down at him. But he didn't step forward; he held his ground like he wanted to fight him but was afraid of the consequences. It struck Nick as the first time he had seen the German Sheppard in a position of indecision. Back at the Academy, Lucky had been the pack leader as well as an Alpha-male. But then he saw why. The wolf was still swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet, eyes dancing as he looked up at Lucky like he wanted the dog to punch him. Like he was waiting for it. It was unnerving, to say the least, and in the end, all Lucky said was, "Don't call me princess, ever."

Nick had to admit it sounded weak after the tough words spoken only moments before. But Jesse just smiled an easygoing smirk that could have been malicious or endearing, like he was contemplating whether to ruffle your fur or wring your neck. Nick hoped it was the former. "Of course hotshot, now run along and go play with the other children. Let's leave the fox alone."

Lucky glared back at both Nick and the wolf once more, before grumbling something under his breath and walking away. The fox's ears only caught the words "thick as thieves," before they too were lost to the wind. As the dog left he made sure to shoulder-check the uniquely coloured wolf. Jesse didn't seem to notice, he just kept smirking.

Moving forwards Jesse leant against the rail next to Nick, so they were standing elbow to elbow. "Wilde, isn't it?" he asked casually. Nick noticed for the first time that the wolf's voice added an odd lilt to the words as if he was trying (but not entirely succeeding) to avoid slurring the sentence into one word.

He was so dazed by the accent and the scene he'd just witnessed that it took him a moment to respond. When he did it was something intelligent like, "Uh, yeah."

Jesse nodded like it was an understandable answer, but that self-same smirk was still on his lips. He pulled something out of his shirt pocket, and Nick noticed it was another cigarette. Absently he said to Nick, "Joey sure doesn't like you."

"What gave it away? The arguing or the fact that I'm a fox and he's a dog."

Hanging the cigarette between his lips, the orange wolf burrowed his hands into his pocket for a lighter. "A bit of both actually. That and the fact he bitches about you from all the time. But hey, they don't put 'detective' in front of my name because of my looks. You don't mind if I smoke do you? No? Good."

He held the flame of a silver-plated lighter to the end of the fag, his hands sheltering it from the wind. It was an oddly mesmerising motion, Nick thought, a brilliant flame against the backdrop of a starless sky and a city that never slept. The wolf himself seemed to stare at it a second longer, his gaze lingering as if on a lover before he drew in the nicotine with a practised huff.

"Those things will kill you, you know?" Nick said because he couldn't think of anything else to say to the man that was simultaneously and comforting to be talking to.

Jesse looked up again, his smirk growing brighter like they were sharing an inside joke. Nick realised why is eyes were so unnerving. Most people described blue eyes as peircing or bright. Jesse's weren't; they were a sky-blue, almost grey, but it was like they contained minature flames themselves. They held an endless amount of attention, like everything they saw was amusing in some way. Finally the wolf broke eye contact and stuffed his lighter back into the pocket of his trousers. "Not if the job does it first."

"What's your name again?" Nick asked, because this stranger seemed to know way to much about Nick as it was. He wanted to even the playing surface, as it were.

He got a simple one word reply, "Jesse."

Nick wasn't sure what to say. _Jesse who?_ But it seemed like he should know who the wolf was by that alone. He tried to think but he couldn't recall anything about a sandy-blonde wolf detective called Jesse. But the wolf didn't seem to mind, it was as if he enjoyed the silence. It was at that moment, Nick realised the others had left the rooftop. Leaving them completely alone.

Eventually Nick felt reckless enough to ask. "Do you know what he was talking about?"

The wolf didn't even glance in Nick's direction, but just answered casually, apparently thinking the question was in regards to the 'bitching' comment. "Lucky? I don't know, he was whining about how you ruined his class at the Academy. I wouldn't dwell on it."

"No," Nick corrected, "before that. About Carrots- er, Hopps?"

The wolf looked at him again with those blue eyes that seemed to twinkle in the darkness in a way that no wolf's could, and Nick was now tempted to call him part coyote. But that was an insult no one accepted, and would likely get Nick killed. But Jesse was no longer smirking now, he looked almost concerned. "You don't know do you?"

Nick shook his head.

Jesse took a particularly long puff before removing the cigarette from his maw, hanging the glowing end over the city like a skydiver stuck in free fall. Blowing a cloud of toxic smoke he continued, but his accent was gone like he had practiced the words beforehand, "You and the rabbit are making waves, Wilde. First there was ZPD's first rabbit cop, then the Bellwether scandal and now there's a fox in the force. Everyone wants to keep a close eye on you two, in case you shatter the status quo even further.

"And as soon as you hand in a report, it's accessable to everyone. It becomes public knowledge here. You should know that."

Nick froze, he hadn't known that. That meant everyone had seen with their own eyes what Nick had written. When he found his voice he asked anyway, just to be certain. "So everyone's seen it?"

"Pretty much. Someone placed a copy on everyone's desks before this shift started. I have no idea who, but it was some interesting reading." His voice was compassionate but his eyes were still delighted like this was a really good drama playing out before him.

Nick groaned. This was bad. Everyone knew and now Carrots was going to kill him if she hadn't been planning to already. "I fucked up didn't I?"

He got a shrug in response, "Not my place to judge mate. My track record with partners is not exactly inspiring. But I do know they don't tend to like you disagreeing with them."

Absently Nick noticed the slur had returned to Jesse's words, but he was feeling too shitty to mention it. Deflated, Nick asked. "So who's yours? Your partner I mean."

"You were just talking to him."

Nick raised an eyebrow, surely he had to be joking. "Lucky?"

"Yep. I was assigned to show him the ropes by his old man."

"At least someone's got a worse partnership than me and Hopps."

"Hey, I'm not the one that went behind m partner's back. I like pissing the guy off, but I don't try to humiliate him." The wolf protested. His tone was matter-of-fact but the words dug themself painfully into Nick's chest.

Another silence descended upon them, Nick wasn't sure what to say. He was surprised their conversation had lasted this long. But it was almost as if Jesse was waiting for something, for Nick to ask a particular question, but Nick couldn't see it. So he just stayed silent, his thoughts twirling around Judy. He really had fucked up with her, he realised. He also realised with a pang that he missed her, although it had only been a day.

He must have made some physical sign of distress because Jesse sighed and stood up a little straighter, "Look, for what it's worth, the situation isn't all bad. Your case report makes a valid point."

Nick looked up again. "It does?" He expected Jesse to burst out laughing and say 'April Fools' or something.

But instead he just nodded, "Sure it does. You're right, something doesn't add up. The evidence is too... neat. But you're asking all the wrong questions. Both of you."

Now Nick was listening. His ears perked up and he stood a little straighter."I am?"

"Fuck yeah. You and the bunny are dancing around each other, fighting over whether the fox did it or not." He held up a finger, "That was your first mistake, it doesn't matter whether the guy is a fox or a shrew or a fucking echidna.

"What you should be asking is 'where's the loot?' Who gains from that store being robbed? Find the motive, you find the crook. Your case isn't a homicide but the principle is the same."

Nick scrunched his brow in thought. It sounded plausible, even probable. But it didn't exactly make solving the case any easier. "How the hell am I meant to find that out?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows in exasperation, "Do I need to give you everythin? You're not a saint Nick. Let's face it, you weren't hired because of a spotless criminal record. You have connections, some on the shady side, and you have street smarts, so use them."

Nick was a little taken back by the in your face attitude, but he didn't protest. Instead he lowered his head in concentration, eyes blankly fixing on a flickering street light. Already an idea was forming in Nick's mind, the start of a new lead. He looked up at the strange wolf. "You're right. Thanks."

Jesse nodded and stood up straight. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a business card, "Don't mention it. If you need some help, give me a call."

Nick took the card; it was plain white cardboard with the name, Detective Jesse Hunter, printed in black print above a phone number. His mind was reeling with a hundred racing thoughts. About Carrots, about the case. But a question peaked out that he couldn't ignore. Their interaction had been curious, especially after witnessing how the wolf treated his partner.

He called out when the sand coloured wolf was halfway to the door. "Why are you helping me?"

Jesse turned and spread his arms, paw pads pointed up in a 'what do you think' expression, "Can't I be doing a good deed out of the kindness of my own heart?"

"No." Nick was certain of it. There was something else a foot. He just wasn't sure what yet.

The wolf grinned, not looking innocent in the slightest, "Lucky hates your guts, that's more than enough reason for me."

Nick nodded, but he still didn't believe it. However, he was in no place to argue. The guy had just handed him a lead on a silver platter. So he watched him continue walking, because he didn't know when he'd see the detective again, but he had a feeling, call it gut instinct, that it wouldn't be under good circumstances.

Shaking the foreboding thought aside, he dug out his phone. When the screen flickered on, Carrots' contact information was still open and the urge to call her and apologise tugged uncomfortably at his gut. After his encounter with Lucky and Jesse, he feld the need to own up to what he'd done, if only to save his professional relationship with the bunny officer. But he recalled her words on the phone from earlier, to not call without a valid reason, and he knew apologising wasn't an option right now.

He pressed the BACK button and pulled up another name. The call picked up after five rings.

"Hello Fin? Yeah it's Nick. Yeah I know it's late. I was wondering if you were up for a drink? Yeah. Uh huh, I know the place. Great Buddy, I owe you one. Fine I owe you like ten, happy? Good I'll be there in ten."


	13. Chapter Twelve

Judy Hopps was not one to gripe about her problems.

But she had had a bad fricking day. There was no other description for it. Once she'd believed things were bad when she was new to the job, but now they'd hit a whole other level entirely.

Her partner; her best friend had betrayed her. Or at least that's what it felt like. He went behind her back and basically called her an over emotional bunny to the Chief. Her small grey body was seething with rage by the time everyone congregated to the bullpen, and Nick's absence was keenly noted with worried looks and murmured rumours from the others. She made a point of not letting on, even if she too wholeheartedly felt the absence in Nick's half of the chair. One grey body without the red was somehow depressing.

Chief Bogo remained purposely vague about her partner's whereabouts during the briefing, inciting 'a personal issue' as the problem. She gave him a weak smile, grateful for the silent support. But it didn't stop the buffalo from assigning her to another partner for the time being. That was the last thing Judy wanted, especially when she couldn't trust the last one. Still she knew better than to argue with the chief.

Fortunately, that partner was Francine. Tough, dependable and a sort of nurturing figure for the precinct, the only elephant on the force was about as non-prying as it could get. She was a little sassy with everyone, but Judy Hopps had learnt long ago that most cops had a cutting sense of humour. It was how they dealt with the job.

And Judy had a splitting headache from so much drama and stress so early in the morning. It wasn't helped when (before they went on duty) she stopped by the office room in time to hear the deafening blast of an air horn. It was torture to her sensitive long ears. Apparently some idiot had rigged it under Fangmeyer's desk chair as a prank. Judy swore that if she ever found the person responsible, she'd destroy them in the worst way she could think of. Once she thought of it, of course. Currently, she was considering something to do with fire ants and honey.

It wasn't until she was sitting in Francine Trunkaby's squad car that she realised how much more frustrating the day was going to be. The elephant's vehicle had been specifically designed for... well an elephant. A creature that was historically a tad larger than a bunny. Judy was virtually smothered by the seat belt wrapped around her, and her feet were several inches shy of the seat's edge. That finally got an irritated groan out of her.

Which drew the attention of her pachyderm colleague. Francine's mouth quirked under the cover of her trunk, a long grey appendage that was much more flexible than her feet, and she gave Judy a sympathetic glance. With a rumbling chuckle, she told the rabbit, "Sorry bunny, they didn't build it with bunnies in mind."

"I'm fine." Judy huffed in reply, trying to cross her arms in front of her chest. She only succeeded in tangling them in her gigantic seat belt, until she looked like she was wearing something akin to a straight jacket. As far as Judy was concerned the embarrassment could not get any worse.

Which was exactly why it did.

"Uh huh," Francine was barely holding back a shit eating grin, "hold on a second. I've got something that might help."

The elephant popped the boot with a click of a hidden button before getting out of the car. She was back within seconds with a conspicuous looking object in her arms. Judy took one look at it before shaking her head furiously. That was just the cherry on top of the most embarrassing day of her life. "Oh no way, I'm not using that."

It was a bright blue booster seat, complete with an H-shaped harness to go around the chest and the shoulders. It was the type of thing a cub would use. It did not sit right with Judy's pride. But Francine was having none of it, "Oh come on, Hopps. Just use the damn seat."

"I'd rather be eye level with the vents." Judy finally managed to cross her arms defiantly. Pointedly she stared at said air conditioning vents in front of her. Childish? Sure. But she'd be damned if she hadn't earned the right to be that day.

The elephant rolled her eyes, muttering something about stubborn bunnies. After a moment, she sighed, "Would it help if I told you that you're not the only police officer who's had to use this?"

That raised Judy's ears; she turned her face halfway towards the other officer, one eye on her. Meekly she asked, "Who?"

"Who do you think?" Was the deadpan reply. It didn't take long for Judy to narrow down the possible candidates to one. There was a second's pause before they both declared simultaneously, "Fangmeyer."

Regardless of her own statement, Judy added, "No way." Conjecture was one thing, but confirmation was another. Sure Fangmeyer was as much of a class clown as one Nick Wilde, but she could hardly see him sacrificing his pride enough to sit in a booster seat.

Then again, it's just the sort of thing he'd do. Judy remembered when she used his face as a jumping pad back in the academy (along with an unfortunate hippo) to get over an ice wall. She'd gone to apologise afterwards and the meathead had cracked up laughing, saying it was the best thing he'd seen since elephantine ice skating. He'd gone on for a whole week about 'damn bunnies walking over everybody like they owned the place.' He even brought it up at graduation, when she was elected valedictorian.

"Yep. He refused for all of five minutes before he got bored of staring at his toes." Francine explained with a shrug, "that kid is about as restless as they come."

Judy mulled it over. The silent taunt was that a bunny was twice as restless as any wolf, even the white wolf of P1. She wanted to argue, but she knew it was a futile effort. With a struggle, she undid her seat belt and hopped out. "Fine, I'll use the darn baby chair," She told the other officer, acutely aware of Francine's smug grin as she leant over and buckled the booster seat in with a practised hand. When she finished Judy compliantly sat down, but she drew the line at Francine helping her put her harness on. She was a grown rabbit after all, not a darn kitten. With another smile of mirth, the elephant started the car and headed off to their first traffic checkpoint in the Rainforest District.

It didn't take long for them to fall into a routine, the two female police officers worked well together. They'd pull up at a busy intersection and watch for thirty minutes, before patrolling until they found somewhere new. The day was quiet, and they miraculously avoided having to pull anyone over. They'd settled into a companionable silence by the time they stopped for lunch.

But as much as Judy's headache couldn't stand noise, her mind couldn't bear the over thinking that arrived to fill the silence. Her mind would turn to Nick, and her hurt feelings again threatened to boil over. She started to feel restless and agitated, looking around for something, anything to talk about. Eventually, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Clawhauser owes you twenty bucks." She said. A small voice inside called her out for dobbing in Ben. But she ignored it, too late now anyway.

ZPD Officer Francine Trunkaby startled, freezing as she stared out the cars window. An XXXL cup of Snarlbucks coffee was balanced in her trunk. Judy could see her eyes slowly swivel to attention; gaze locking onto the little grey rabbit and her trunk balled into something resembling a fist. Judy wasn't sure whether it was a stress mechanism or the pachyderm was preparing to fist pump. Eventually, she managed, "He told you?"

Judy nodded, her purple eyes staring the elephant down with the intensity a jaguar might stare down an antelope, preparing to stalk, "By accident. He thought he'd won the bet, but it was just a misunderstanding."

It may have sounded like she huffed out that last bit, but she'd always firmly deny it.

Nevertheless, Francine noticed, "A misunderstanding, how do you mess up that bad? What, did he think that Nick had asked you out?"

"Um... actually yes," Judy admitted bashfully, predatory grace forgotten. Although she didn't know why she was the one feeling embarrassed, "I told him a guy asked me out."

Francine's eyes widened minutely in recognition and she stared down at the rabbit before she looked back up at the road. She was silent for a moment before she asked, "And Ben assumed you meant Nick?"

"Yep."

"Well, shit, what a fucking moron. Although I suppose I do get twenty bucks out of it." The elephant muttered.

"Lucky you," Judy said, and she meant it. She thought she did. But it came out dry and sarcastic.

Francine gave her a look before slumping back into her seat. It was a movement that made the whole car quake, "So this date, when is it girly?"

"It's not... I'm not." Judy started, unsure of how to explain, she rubbed the knuckles of the paw cradling her own coffee. "I haven't decided yet... if I want to?"

That raised an eyebrow. Straight-faced, Francine asked, "Is he fugly?"

"Excuse me?" Judy's eyes were wide and her long ears sticking straight up, mortified. She'd admit she wasn't as comfortable swearing as her urban-reared colleagues, but their ease with four letter words continued to astound her.

Francine half-shrugged, "Fugly? It means fucking ugly."

"I know what it means. No, he's not, he's the opposite; good looking." He was, she knew. With a hard square jaw, and well-groomed fur. He was what her parents would call a catch. Not that she wanted to be considering her parents' opinions when dating someone, "Not that I'm shallow or anything."

"Of course not," Francine agreed with a twist to her mouth, "so what's the problem?"

Judy wrung her grey paws out, genuinely unsure of the answer, "I don't know."

A tense silence hung between them. The constant artificial downpour of the district pattered against the windscreen, giving something for Judy to distract herself with. The line of embracing gravity's pull was unusually interesting in that moment.

Eventually, Francine's voice rumbled out again, "Bunny?"

Judy looked up, intoning equal seriousness into her reply, "Elephant?"

It was frightening when one of the largest mammals in Zootopia stared Judy down, eyes daring her to try and avoid the topic, "Do you like Nick Wilde?"

"Of course, he's my best friend." It was the natural redirection.

A large grey hand reached out and flicked a significantly smaller grey ear, "You know what I mean. Do you like him as more than a friend?"

"No, he's my partner. Why?"

Francine rolled her eyes, adopting that mothering voice that had given her a reputation at P1. "Because since you arrived in the city, you have not dated a single person. Zip, zilch, nada."

Indignant, Judy retorted, "You don't know that."

A shake of the head, "Yes we do."

"We?" It sounded way to ominous for Judy to let slide.

Francine shrugged, "Nevermind that. Anyway, at the start, I could understand it. You were new, under pressure to prove yourself and then there was that big missing mammal's case. You were too taken up with work to really meet other mammals. But," She poked the rabbit lightly with one enormous elephantine digit, although Judy was sure it'd still bruise regardless of how lightly the elephant intended it, "you solved the damn case. You've proven yourself. You are no longer high-strung over work.

"So where is the boyfriend rabbit? You haven't gone on any dates since the fox arrived. In fact, you spend all your free time outside of work, with that fucking fox. Maybe it's about time that you tried dating Officer Wilde. Or anyone else, because I'd personally prefer to keep the twenty dollars."

"It could never work, he's a fox. I'm a rabbit." The sentence drifted off like it wasn't already apparent what species they were and the difficulties that implied.

Again Francine was having none of it, "So?"

Judy instantly felt herself blush; she wanted to immediately deny it away. But the retort died on her tongue under the weight of Francine's gaze. She quickly searched for some excuse, a reason not to test the friendship of her relationship with Nick. She only found one irrefutable reason. Her mind lingered on that morning, the report he'd written, and her emotional side flared. Angry and hurt all at once. Nick obviously didn't care about her the same way, to just go behind her back like that. Judy herself never would do that to him. She realised Francine was still looking at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity, and she barely managed to grit out, "He doesn't feel the same way."

"How can you be so sure?"

It was Judy's turn to roll her eyes, her mouth turning into a bitter smirk. "Trust me, I'm sure."

"Well Hopps, there's only one thing to do." Francine chimed. "Go on that date."

Judy couldn't think of a reason not to. A small voice in her head suggested that it would cheer her up at least. Reluctantly she nodded her head, agreeing.

Francine still glanced at her pointedly. "Make the call."

"What? Now?"

The elephant nodded seriously. "Yes. Go on, nothing is happening."

"Fine, _mum._ " Judy stepped out of the car before she could hear the mocking reply and closed the door. The rain was only a light drizzle against her fur and she thought out the shade of a nearby tree. Judy vaguely identified it as a kapok by the size and shape, but she was possibly mistaken.

Focusing once more on the task at hand, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialling the phone number that was saved under her recent calls list.

She was in a relatively good mood afterwards until they got back to the precinct. There was nothing like planning an evening out with an interested party to put a spring in your step. An ego boost was the more probable reasoning but she didn't think on it too much. She was feeling great for the moment at least.

But like always, reality came crashing back in like a vengeful ex; eager to chase those happy feelings away and prove her miserable.

It started as soon as she walked into P1's atrium. There was a concerned look from Clawhauser and a sudden silence fell over the room. It lasted only a moment but the eyes of every mammal in blue flickered to her. And then they continued so simultaneously that she almost thought it hadn't happened. But it had, she was sure of it. Because Francine beside her looked equally bewildered, proving she wasn't crazy.

Somehow confirmation of her sanity didn't relax her. A tingle of electricity moved its way from her tail up her spine, a primal reaction to having so many eyes on her. She excused herself from her temporary partner and made her way over to the spotted big cat. He visibly shied away from her when she climbed the spare seat and thumped her paw on his desk.

"Clawhauser I don't know what's going on, but you better tell me right now or I'll turn you into cat kibble. I'm so not in the mood for this." She warned.

The overweight cat glanced at her nervously, his fingers inching towards the keyboard of his computer for want of an excuse. "I-I don't know what you're talking about Judy. Nothing's the matter."

She was about to growl out another ridiculous threat when a paw appeared on her shoulder. It was big enough to almost throw her completely off balance and she instantly knew it belonged to a wolf.

"Give it a rest Judy," the low monotone voice of Officer Jacob Wolford told her, "not his fault."

She looked up at the brown-furred timber wolf standing over her, his muzzle screwed into a tight line. Over his shoulder, she could also see Officer Fangmeyer, looking uncomfortable. There was another wolf next to him, his grey-colouring almost black, but she recognised him from the bullpen. The impromptu intervention was enough to concern her but if Fangmeyer was worried about something, this had to be bad. She turned to the brown wolf, and asked, "What's going on?"

His shaggy head swivelled around, taking in the few eyes still straying towards them, or more precisely her.

"Let's not do this here," with a nod to the others he started pulling her away towards the elevator, "come with us. There's something we have to show you."

The unusually sombre quiet of the makeshift wolf pack was starting to worry her, but she waited until they were in the elevator before speaking, "At least tell me what this is about?"

It was Fangmeyer who answered, his voice a falsetto in comparison to the older wolf's but Judy knew his pitch was much lower than her own. "Wilde."

Judy mustn't have heard him right because she automatically asked, "What?"

"It's about Nick, Judy." He repeated, his white fur bristling under her gaze.

Instantly the worst case scenario flooded through her mind; Nick lying dead or bleeding in a hospital bed hit by a car or something worse. Immediately she reached out and grabbed the wolf's arm (she was sure he had a first name, but every wolf in the precinct wore those stupid ZPD t-shirts with no nametag and she'd never thought to ask; she only knew Wolford's because they'd done a twelve hour stakeout together whilst Nick was still in the Academy) forcing him to look at her. She could even admit she sounded a little frantic when she asked, "Is he okay? How badly was he hurt?"

Fangmeyer's eyes widened a fraction and the youngest wolf stuttered a gasp of something. The third unknown wolf cleared his throat, a dark almost black paw covering his maw, "Nick's fine. Or at least we think he is, we haven't heard otherwise."

Judy forcibly managed to calm herself, balling her paws and resisting the urge to tug her ears down. "So what's the matter?"

The elevator door opened with a ding on the office floor. Wolford stepped out, gesturing for her to follow once more. She obliged, careful to dodge his sweeping tail as he threaded in and out of the offices, picking up something from his cubicle before continuing out the room. The four mammals moved down the corridor at a steady gait.

When they reached a particular door Wolford looked around, brown ears cocked upwards, before he opened it and they slinked into the room. Judy recognised it as an interrogation room. It was as dreary and plain as the one that she and Reynard sat in the day before.

The black wolf took up a position at the door, keeping watch with one ear to the wood and the other tuned into the rest of the room. Fangmeyer perched himself on one of the chairs, although his alert demeanour gave away his excitement, regardless of the seriousness the other wolves displayed Fangmeyer would always be the kid of the group (a spy movie theme song was probably running through his head right now, Judy would bet). Jake was the last to take a position, plopping the file he'd picked up before on the table with a slap, and leaning back against the table. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. With the other chair left free for her, she climbed onto it, unable to shake the feeling that this was all too similar to an interrogation.

"Why all the secrecy guys?" she tried to inject some enthusiasm into her answer.

Again it was Wolford who took the lead, Judy supposed he'd be considered an Alpha in wolf society, what with the way he took charge seamlessly. Even so his eyes were compassionate and his voice soft as he said, "We know Judy."

"Heck, everyone knows Jake," The black wolf scoffed at the door before she could reply herself. His voice was harsh and cutting, but still held the low rumble that could carry across streets which was common among the species. She thought she vaguely remembered him a little better, usually assigned to undercover work. Then again all the wolves usually were. But she vaguely recalled his last name being Lowell.

Wolford glared at his darker colleague, snapping "Shut up Nate."

"He's right, though," Fangmeyer piped up from his seat, spreading his hands in a 'don't blame me' expression, "everyone does know."

It was then that Judy tuned backed into the string of conversation. She tried to think of any shameful secrets she and Nick had to hide but drew up blank. Even as she spoke, though, she felt a string of unease coil in her stomach, "Everyone knows what?"

Wolford just tapped the closed file, covered in office issue red cardboard. On the front stamped in black typewriter font were the words 'case report'. "Read it," he told her.

That coil in her stomach tightened more as she opened the cardboard folder, pages of tightly printed script staring back at her. At the top was Nick's name and badge number as well as a string of numbers identifying the case in question. Suddenly she knew what it was everyone knew, but she forced herself to read on.

She'd always been a speed reader, and it helped when she reached the fourth and final page of text within two minutes. The conclusion was highlighted in red marker, the paragraph Chief Bogo had read aloud that morning. Underneath it scrawled the thick red letters 'TROUBLE IN PARADISE? YOU CAN'T TRUST A FOX' that made Judy's blood freeze. Suddenly the weight of the wolves' words caught up with her, and she paled.

"How did you get this?" She asked, her paws trembling around the condemning file. She placed it back on the table and pushed it away from her.

Wolford's face was apologetic but he explained honestly, "It was on our desks when we came in from lunch."

" _Our?"_

"As Nate said, everyone knows." Fangmeyer piped up, his muzzle twisted into a scowl, "They all got a copy."

Anger welled up in Judy's chest when she started to feel ashamed. Because what the heck, it's not her fault her dumbass partner had to go and write up that fricking report. When she next saw him she was going to deck him in the face, she decided with a satisfying mental image.

She hopped down from the seat, careful to keep the rage out of her voice. She remarked on her way out, "Thanks for telling me guys, I appreciate it."

Something must have tipped them off because Fangmeyer cleared his throat. "Hopps wait."

"What is it?" She turned towards him curiously.

He moved as if to say something, then changed his mind. His voice was uncharacteristically soft when he said, "Just don't be too hard on Wilde, okay? Yeah, he did something stupid, but his heart was in the right place." His eyes flicked up to Wolford and Lowell, who were watching him intently. Obviously, his little plea was unscripted, "It's not easy to be a cop when you're a fox... or a wolf."

The other two nodded absently and Judy recalled how Fangmeyer and Wolford were the first to properly accept Nick when he joined the Precinct. They accepted him like a pack member (and in extension Judy), and treated him like a long-lost litter mate; playing practical jokes with him and laughing at his antics. Always having the time of day for him. Now she knew why. It was only a decade ago that timber wolves were treated with the same stigma as foxes, and it was to be expected that they sided with a kindred spirit.

But Judy couldn't so easily forget how Nick went about it. She nodded her head, "I'll take that under advisement, Fangmeyer. Thanks again."

And then she was out the door with a nod to Lowell, her fury bolstering her pride so that she walked with her head held high. A few stares still lingered on her but she avoided bristling under the weight of them. When she found Francine in the break room the sympathetic gaze of her eyes showed that she too had received a report, but she didn't comment. For that at least Judy was thankful.

She powered through the afternoon, never still enough to warrant further thought on the matter. IAnd it wasn't until her shift ended that it hit her again. Her fury rekindled like a flame, and she suddenly regretted organising her date with Oliver for that night. She'd rather sit at home eating ice cream and binge watching cheap television reruns.

The silver lining was that going out might stop her brain from dwelling on her ill-conceived celebrity status at work and the dumb fox who caused it. She smiled and stood a little straighter, yeah that could work. With the first footstep out of the P1 building she solemnly swore to not think about a Nicholas Piberius Wilde for the rest of the night.

Which is why she was especially pissed off when Nick called her at dinner. She was in the middle of a delicious carrot based pasta dish that was excellently paired with the red wine the waiter had provided. She was decked out in the one dress she actually owned (she'd always been too much of a tomboy to care, like heck, what is wrong with a pair of jeans), a modest blue thing that had been purchased by none other than Fru Fru (who had insisted she own at least one girly thing in her wardrobe), and a touch of makeup. It had been such a strange phenomenon to actually use it again. Traffic patrols and chasing down vandals didn't provide a lot of occasions to dress up.

The restaurant was a Savannah Central establishment, with tall glass windows facing out across the harbour, its water glittering in the moonlight. Across the table from her Oliver sat in black trousers and a maroon shirt, his striped black tie completing the image. Judy was surprised when, given that he was a computer shop owner and she a police officer, they had a fair bit in common to talk about. Besides the long ears and fluffy tails of course. He was just in the middle of an amusing anecdote about his first apartment that sounded uncannily similar to her own experience when Judy's phone buzzed in her handbag.

She gave him a shy smile, before pulling her I-Carrot smartphone out of her purse to check the caller ID. Her face fell and she pressed the decline call button straight away. There was no way she was going to let him ruin her night as well as her day.

Judy smiled apologetically, tucking her purse out of sight once more. "Sorry Oliver, where were we?"

He smiled amiably but his question was more concerned, "Wrong number?"

"Work." She lied, there was no way she was discussing Nick with her date, "But I'm not on call tonight, so they can bother someone else."

"Of course," he said as he sipped his wine, "how _is_ the case? I assume it's all squared away, otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to meet up tonight."

Judy smiled, and even she knew it was the fakest face she could pull. "Open and shut, we got the fox and-."

Her phone was buzzing again. She pulled it out to check and... Yep, it was him again. She let out a sigh and moved her thumb to decline again when Oliver spoke, "It could be important, you are a police officer after all."

Damn him for being so thoughtful, she thought. She really didn't want to talk to Nick right now. But she smiled sweetly and told the other rabbit, "I'll just be a minute."

Manoeuvring her way through the various tables she made it to the small alcove that segregated the bathrooms from the restaurant proper. Her phone was still ringing, so she picked up the call with a growled, "What do you want Nick?"

"Hey Carrots, how you doing?" he said with the catchphrase that the kangaroo actor Joey Triviani popularised on the TV sitcom _Furr-einds._

She held back a groan, and replied, eager to get back to her date, "What do you want, Nick?"

Any hope she had of speeding this conversation a long died when Nick said with... was that concern? "Are you okay, Carrots?"

"I'm fine," she almost growled, "now if you've got nothing to _actually_ tell me, I'm going to say good night."

She waited for a second, and when she heard no immediate response she pulled the phone away from her ear. Looking at the picture of his face that she'd set as a contact picture, she felt a little satisfaction as she brought her thumb down on the large red end call button, imagining she was squashing his face instead of her phone screen.

"Whoa, whoa wait." Her thumb hesitated a hair's breadth away from the screen, willing, at the very least, to hear him out. "This isn't a social call sweetheart; I've got some new information about the case."

She should have hung up right there and enjoyed the rest of her night. Shut him up and finished her pasta, but she stupidly asked, "The case?"

She hoped he didn't mean what she thought he did. For his sake.

The red-furred bastard even sounded cocky as he admitted, "Yeah the Sahara Square job, I found some new evidence."

Judy clenched her eyes and mouth shut against the outburst she was about to unleash as if it would escape through her irises if she didn't speak it. One deep breath, then a second swelled her breast until there was a tenth. Only then did she trust herself to clarify, " _You_ are working the case?"

"Uh yeah, what else would I be doing?"

She almost exploded again. He'd been taken off the case, in fact, they both had; which was his fault by the way. And here he was working it again, behind the ZPD's back; because the rules apparently didn't apply to Nicholas Wilde. She couldn't help the growl behind her words, "You are on leave; you should be _leaving_ the case alone."

His voice was as nonplussed as ever when he responded, "Oh yeah, that thing."

Wrong answer. Judy clenched her free paw as she moved to hang up again. It was as if Nick had a sixth sense for when she was about to do that because he blurted out once again. "Wait, wait a second. You're the one always telling me to put in more effort with this job, Carrots."

Judy hesitated once more because yeah, she did. And she knew she'd break protocol and work a case even if she was taken off it as well. Although for less personal reasons. That thought calmed her down enough to not hang up. Until he spoke the next sentence.

"So I took time out of my busy schedule and dug up some solid leads on the real burglar."

"THE REAL BURGL-." The sound died mid-yell as she caught sight of some other patrons staring at her like a crazy lady. Real burglar? He was still going with that theory, even after everything that happened. The softer side of Judy told her to hear him out, listen to the what he had before she chewed him out, so she complied. It was socially more appropriate than what the other side was telling her to do anyways. "You know what? Fine. What is this breakthrough you uncovered?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked." She could hear the smugness in his voice clearly, but the slight pause before he continued stalled her. He was doctoring his statement, she realised with a start. "I spoke with someone who knew James, and they said he wasn't into anything criminal."

She took a wild stab in the dark with her suspicion, and chimed in, "Oh, so another crook says he's not a crook, let's release him straight away _Slick_."

"Hey, Todd is not a croo-. Actually, forget that." Bingo! "I also just found a security camera in the parking lot of the computing store. Just pulled the footage."

That was actually potentially usable. Judy found herself doubting Nick's naivety momentarily. "So who does the camera show breaking into the store?"

"Actually, it wasn't facing the store. And it was turned off from two to ten in the morning on the day of the robbery. But," Judy found herself praying that this was a really good 'but', "it does show that James Reynard was not casing the joint like your pal 'Ollie the Wally' said."

"So you can't prove Reynard didn't break in at all?" she sighed because he really wasn't helping himself with that whole 'Ollie the Wally' thing. Admittedly he didn't know she was on a date with the guy, but. Judy closed her eyes. She really couldn't deal with this right now. She tried to sound friendly and chipper when she told him, "Nick, next time you want to interrupt my night over a case, have some actual evidence."

"Interrupt your ni- Wait a sec, what is that?" Instantly Judy knew she had screwed herself over. She'd called attention to the background ambience that was most definitely not coming from her apartment. "Are you on a date? I didn't know you were dating anyone Carrots."

The rabbit breathed out dryly, that indignation from earlier clawing it's way back to the surface. "Yeah well there's a lot you don't know about me. Good night Nick."

As she pulled the phone away from her grey cheek once more, she heard him bark out, "Wait, wait. At least tell me who the lucky fella is."

But it was too late, she hung up with one last "Night Nick" and the phone was dead in her paw. She stood there for another minute recomposing herself and finally she hurried back to her seat, where her pasta had grown cold. Another thing Nick would answer for.

Regardless her stomach threatened to rumble for it. She smiled up at her date before reaching for another forkful. "I'm so sorry about that, it took way too long."

Oliver only smiled patiently, his body language and posture attentive, "No need, it happens. I was aware of that danger when I asked a police officer out."

"Thanks, Oliver." She said, because there was not a lot more to say, blushing as she was. And if there was, she didn't know what it was. Judy Hopps was definitely not a veteran of romance. More like the occasional innocent bystander that winds up as collateral damage because of it. But she was willing to give it a go for a sweet caring guy like the brown buck in front of her.

It was Oliver once again who saved her from the uneasy silence, bless him. He cleared his throat after she'd demolished the rest of her dish, causing her to look up, "So is everything all right? At work?"

Judy shrugged because she wasn't sure. It was such an everyday question, and yet it felt so loaded that night. "It was just my partner, calling about a case," she replied casually.

"The fox right? Wilde?" he clarified.

Judy nodded, "That's the one."

"I hope I didn't upset him with my reaction the other day." He cast a look down at his empty dish, "It's just you hear stories, you know, growing up. About the big bad foxes."

She found herself smiling nostalgically, and she reached out to rest her paw on his. She gave it a squeeze of support, "Yeah I know. Don't worry, that's all water under the bridge."

He held her gaze, but he looked conflicted. Squeezing back once, he licked his lips before speaking, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business. It's just I heard you arguing on the phone and... I jumped to conclusions."

"Cheese and crackers, you heard that?"

"I think everyone did. I was about to walk over and save the day when you returned." He explained, "Something about a burglar?"

Judy was mortified, she covered her face with a paw to hide her blush, earning a chuckle from him. But he didn't let go of her other paw, so she figured it couldn't be all bad. She peeked through her fingers and looked up at the rabbit who was grinning broadly, but not in a chastising manner like one fox she knew. Finally, she dropped her raised paw to look back at him, "Yeah, it was something like that."

He gave her a look of mock disapproval, before breaking back into that charismatic grin, "And here I thought you weren't allowed to go out with me until the case was all wrapped up. You aren't breaking the rules for me, are you Judy?"

"Me, never. We've got the guy; Nick's just having a hard time accepting it."

"Because he's a fox?" Oliver asked, "I'm not judging, I understand the reluctance to believe that stuff about your own species. Heck, Jimmy seemed like good enough folk to me. I wouldn't have suspected him if it wasn't for the robbery."

Judy nodded along, that was exactly the problem. "Yeah, something like that. Anyway, he'll get over-" She stopped mid-sentence to look up at him, "How did you know his name was Jimmy?"

Because she could have sworn Oliver Thumper denied knowing the guy.

"You told me, remember?" He said it so casually, that Judy almost believed him; except for that millisecond after the question when his eyes widened a fraction in realisation. But his story made sense, he didn't know the fox so how else would he know the guy's name unless she told him. She was the lead investigator after all.

She looked down, except she _never_ referred to the fox as Jimmy. It was always Reynard. "You're probably right." She told him, "it's been a long day, and I guess I'm a little jumpy."

He smiled, "Of course. Maybe we should grab some dessert; the waiter's looking a little antsy."

Judy was quiet for a second, thinking. Nick's words were all coming back to her as if heard for the first time. A fox believed to be staking out the crime scene but wasn't. A camera shut off for eight hours. A shop's camera footage expertly disposed of. And a timeline provided solely by the brown buck across from her, who they wouldn't have caught their suspect without. A sick twisting coil of fear disturbed her gut, and she forced herself to keep a neutral expression.

"Actually, I'm not feeling so great. Perhaps we should call it a night?" she suggested.

Oliver looked at her, a keen alertness in his eyes that she only noticed now. He no longer was the stumbling rabbit that he'd been at the crime scene. But he smiled unabashed, "Of course. Another night perhaps?"

"Sure." She found herself saying. She had to fight back the need to rush through the process of paying the bill, in order to get away from him. She made sure to kiss him on the cheek goodnight. She didn't want to arouse suspicion more than necessary. She was alone after all, and no one had any reason to suspect she was in danger. The first step would be to call someone.

So she set off down the street towards the station. Hugging her jacket more tightly around her, she was taken back to a night months ago, where after a night out celebrating the conclusion of a case, she'd been making her way home in the company of a fox. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, dialling his number. As it rang, she mulled over the memory. It hadn't been as warm then, but the darkness had clung the same. Something had happened that night, but she couldn't quite remember what. She'd been drunk, completely and utterly. Nick had been all but carrying her down a street so similar to this one.

The phone clicked off. Judy frowned at it, maybe he was busy? Or more likely he hated her right now. In light of her sudden realisation, she couldn't entirely blame him.

Regardless she decided to focus on getting to the station first. There were people there, crowds to merge into. Safety in numbers. Then she'd call in her suspicion to the ZPD, have them arrest the real person behind the break in.

She smiled at the thought. She'd be able to mend her friendship with Nick then, she hadn't realised how much their arguing had eaten away at her. Even if it had only been for a day.

Then the smile dropped, she remembered that night's attack an instant before she felt her own. A short sharp blow to the back of the head. Her knees buckled under her and she fell. Face first into the hard concrete below and she knew she'd have a killer headache when she woke up. She wanted to curse herself for letting her guard down, but she'd been too wrapped up in herself to care about anything else. As she'd been for the whole case.

Then the darkness came flooding in, even as she felt her mind drawing back to that memory. Unlike Nick, she wouldn't have her friend there to call this attack off.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Finnick almost looked out of place in the dingy grey haze of the bar. Unlike the Robin Hood, this one wasn't pretty. Actually located in the basement of a building Downtown, 'Swipers' was a testament to the days when business meetings were discussed over a pint in the local pub instead of a dark alley or over the internet.

The wallpaper was peeling, the bar needed cleaning and there were traces of three different types of bodily fluids left around the establishment. Between the unisex toilet and the bar itself, Nick had a suspicion that this place would light up like a Christmas tree under a black light.

On either side of the diminutive Fennec fox sat hulking bears and brawny hyenas, the stereotypical rough bunch. The bartender was a scowling warthog with a snout that looked like he'd ran headfirst into a wall one too many times and Nick's sixth sense was telling him that he kept a shotgun under the bar for disgruntled guests. The hilarity of it was that Nick was a lot more scared of the little fox than all the goons surrounding him.

Idly he wondered if there was something wrong with him. Mr. Big, Carrots, and Finnick; he was always scared of the ankle-biters. Drawn to, as well it seemed. But that wasn't the thought to dwell on; not here, and not now amongst this crowd.

He slid his game face on, confident smirk and determined eyes flashing, before stepping forward. Moving through the mass of bodies towards his friend, he forced himself to breath in the smog of second-hand smoke or risk looking like a cop. Which was a death sentence in a place like this,

"Finn buddy," he said as he took the empty stool next to Finnick, whose large white ears swivelled towards him instinctively, "you're looking good buddy. Have you gotten taller?"

Finnick didn't even look up from his drink as he snarled out, "Fuck you too Wilde."

Nick laughed. Same old Finn, he thought as he raised two fingers for the bartender. Not because he wanted a drink, but he'd probably get his face smashed in otherwise. To his friend he chuckled, "Alright bud, I'm just messing. How's things?"

With a single draught the long-eared fox drained his cup in time for the bartender to produce the two pints, "Swell, the pawpsicle business is booming. Are you sure I can't talk you into coming back?"

"Yep, I'm pretty certain that Carrots would kill me." He muttered, "And I am more scared of her than I am of you."

That got a laugh from his old partner in crime, "And how is Judy, you been taking care of her?"

For some reason that Nick never understood, Finnick loved Judy. Maybe it was her optimistic naivety or her fearless spunky dedication. But after the big Bellwether thing, the Fennec fox of Sahara Square and the bunny from Bunny Burrow had developed a sort of camaraderie. Judy included the criminal in her 'city family'. Finnick, in turn, put the word out that if anybody hurt the rabbit police officer, they'd have to deal with him. The warning was especially dire if their names started with Nicholas and ended with Wilde.

Honestly, between Finnick and the Big family, Judy had the shadiest group of guardian angels anyone could get. Ironic for the ZPD's poster child, Nick thought. But the reality was less of a joking matter; it would be an Internal Affairs field day if her mob connections were revealed. And Nick's own shady past might be dragged into the light.

He shrugged, took a sip of the bitter beer in front of him. "Yeah, she's okay. Kind hates me, right now, though."

"Finally seen the real you, has she?"

A smirk tugged Nick's lips before it was stolen like autumn leaves in the wind, "I screwed up big time, Finn." He said with a sigh, spreading his paws to firmly grasp the situation for himself, "It's to do with this job see (they were careful to avoid any references to police, given the charming company they found themselves in); there is this other fox. He's looking at burglary charges. Carrots wanted me to just forget it, and let the powers that be handle him."

"But," the sandy white vulpine finished, "you thought he wasn't good for it?"

"Exactly. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." Nick nodded, he took another sip of his drink.

Finnick raised an eyebrow, wiping away a beer stain moustache. "Well?"

Nick leaned in closer, careful to avoid resting his elbow on a suspicious looking stain on the bar. "I need to know if you've heard anything about anyone selling hardware."

Finnick gave him a cautious glance, eyes widening, "Hardware? Are you talking guns or explosives?"

An almost imperceptible shake of the head, "Neither. Computer hardware and phones."

"Computers aren't exactly contraband Nicky; any tool can go to the shop and buy some."

"Not these ones. They were lifted from a shop down in the Square, its high-end stuff."

Finnick seemed to consider it for a moment. His eyes blinked twice as he chose his next move and his large ears twitched. Nick already had a faint idea. Making a show of scratching his chin, Finnick said, "I might have heard something."

Nick was aghast. He'd anticipated it, but it was still a shock. He reared back, gaping at the fox that's been like a brother to him, "You're hustling me? What gives man?"

Finnick shrugged, "A guy's got to eat and information doesn't come cheap."

Nick couldn't believe this, there had to be some rule against this. Honour among thieves, or something like that, that was a thing right? Nevertheless, he pulled out his wallet, "How much?"

Cackling, the fox waved him off. "I don't want your money, fuckface."

That caused Nick to really pause, "What _do_ you want?"

"A favour."

Nick chilled at the words, this was potentially a lot worse. The last time Nick had done someone a favour in this world, it was to bleach clean an apartment; the result of an argument that had gotten out of hand. He'd never seen the body, but he'd had to use so much bleach that his eyes stung for weeks. No one could survive losing that much blood. He turned back to his friend, "Specifically?"

"You are going to get back into the game for me." Nick was midway through refusing when Finn held up a paw, "Every Saturday for two months, the pawpsicle scam. It's just not the same without _my daddy_."

Nick did the maths as he took a long sip of his beer, he'd have to pull roughly eight scams in order to pay the midget off. Which was swell enough, except for the possibility of Carrots catching on. She was tricky like that, being a police officer and all. If she did, he had no doubt she'd kill him. Or worse, lecture him.

But she'd probably kill him anyway if he couldn't prove himself right on this case. He grunted, "Fine, deal. But I'm getting a share of the profits. This isn't pro bono work."

Satisfied the little fox grinned, showing off pearly white canines, and jerked his thumb over towards the other side of the pub. Nick could barely see through the second-hand smoke. A scrawny looking meerkat was sitting in a booth, wearing a sleazy Hawaiian shirt get up (it looked sleazy on anybody but himself, Nick decided), desperately trying to grab the attention of every shady character that walked past.

"Your friend's been in here since I rocked up. Tried to sell me a burner phone, he's had five takers and says he has three more up for grabs." Finnick explained nonchalantly with a shrug, "It might be worth a look."

Nick nodded, deep in thought. He managed to swallow back the rest of the shitty beer before standing. "Come on Finn, time's a wasting." He told the shorter fox before sauntering over to the indicated fence.

With a start, he recognised the rascal, "Tim?"

The meerkat's ears perked up and he threw his attention at Nick like a tidal wave, "Heeeeey Nickeeey, just the fox I wanted to see. Boy, have I got something for you, just you listen."

Nick sat down in the booth beside him and gestured for him to continue. Finnick took a seat opposite his fox compatriot, subtly boxing the meerkat in. If Tim realised, he didn't mention it. He continued with a flourish, "I just got a shipment of tech in to fence; mobile phones, laptops, heck even routers. Pretty cool huh?"

Nick grinned, that had been easy. Hand it to Tim to run his mouth. Fortunately, the meerkat had never been involved with anything big; the mob wouldn't have tolerated his loose lips. In fact, that was one of the reasons why Tim had never done mafia jobs; everyone knew he couldn't keep a secret to save his life. But things might have changed, so Nick asked with a fake sense of enthusiasm, "Are these stolen?"

The meerkat gave him an incredulous expression, like duh. "Well they don't come with a warranty, I'll tell you that."

"But this isn't mob gear, right?" Nick said cautiously, thinking about the evidence he'd gotten from the car park. His money was still on the fact that it was a pro's work. Professional jobs usually meant either the mobs or the gangs.

"Nicky, you know I never ran with them. That was always your shtick."

"Then where did you get it?" He said without acknowledging Tim's statement, which was one life story he didn't want to return to, or mention to Carrots. Hustling iced treats was one thing, but organised crime fell under a completely different set of rules. But he needed to get some info out of the meerkat, and he wasn't afraid to lean on him.

"Why so curious fox?" Tim said with a suspicious scowl, "Do you want the phone or not?"

Nick didn't bat an eye. "Because I just patched things up with the Bigs, and I don't want to ruin it by buying shit that you accidently took from a mob warehouse again. My knee still doesn't feel right since the last time a repo man came to relieve me of something _you_ sold me."

At least the punk had the decency to look embarrassed. A scrawny furred arm scratched at the back of Tim's neck, "I already said I'm sorry okay. How was I supposed to know it belonged to the O'Donnell's? It was the other guy who grabbed it."

Nick sighed. The meerkat had always had a colourful career in the crime world, almost as eventful as Nick's attempts in the legitimate world, but Tim had always gotten away scot free. Both him and his partner. That thought caused Nick to glance around quickly, "Timmy, speaking of which. Where is that old warthog Punjab? I hope he wasn't the one to grab this stuff too."

He got an aggravated groan in response. Nick didn't pay any mind because his phone started to ring. He switched it to silent and let it ring through; now was not the time to be distracted. The meerkat resumed talking when he looked up, "It's Pum-ba. And _my_ name isn't Timmy. You know that."

"And my name is Nick, not Nicky, but you don't hear me bitching about it. I swear it sounds like you're about to break out into Pony Basil every time we meet."

There was a cackle of laughter from the other side of the booth. Nick could just see the white tips of Finnick's large ears as he doubled over laughing. "Ha! Good one Nicky."

The meerkat looked askance at the Fennec Fox before continuing, "Anyway, _Pumba_ is out of town for a bit. So don't worry on that front, I'm doing this for a client."

Nick and Finnick exchanged a glance. It sounded like their guy, although he apparently had a lousy taste in fences. Finnick made a vague nodding gesture of go ahead, and Nick turned back to the meerkat, "I want to meet this client."

"Woah woah, wait a second." Tim said with small black hands raised in a timeout sign, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing here Nicky. You're trying to muscle in on my operation. Well, I ain't letting ya!"

"I don't want your tech Tim," Nick said as he leaned dangerously close to the fence's vulnerable face, curling his lips up to reveal his canines, "I just want the buyer. He owes me some compensation for shit he's put me through recently."

It was technically true, but the meerkat didn't look perturbed, "No way Nick, you want a phone, go ahead. But I'm not ratting anybody out."

Finnick tensed, ready for a fight. This was the part where they started making threats and backing them up with broken paws until they got the information they needed. It wouldn't be the first time they'd done it, and, Nick feared regardless of his current job, it wouldn't be the last.

But to the little foxes surprise, Nick pulled back. A smug smirk covered his face, "Fine meerkat, but you just know. It's only a matter of time before I find him, and you don't want to get in the way when I do Timmy."

He stood up from the booth, nodding his head towards the bar. "Come on Finn. I want a shot of something horrible and nasty."

At the bar, he ordered two shots of something inky black with a vanilla scent. He passed one wordlessly to the tiny fox next to him. Finnick accepted it with a grunt, "So what, you're just going to let him get away? You've changed man."

Nick slung the sambuca back, recoiling at the aniseed taste flooding his mouth. In his opinion, it tasted like Satan had came in a bottle and distilled it, but it was a great way to get a buzz, "Patience young padawan. All in good time."

He forked some cash out to pay his tab and fidgeted with his rolled up sleeves. Finnick smacked his lips, "You think he's just going to change his mind? You've been out of the mafia game a long time Nick; no one's scared of you anymore."

"Wrong play Finn," Nick told him before changing topics, "Is my Go bag still in the van?"

Finnick gave him an appraising glance, his lips pulling back into a smile. "Well, well Nicky is breaking the gear out again. Yeah, it's in the back, the doors are unlocked.

"I take it this is goodnight?"

Nick was already heading for the exit, "Unless you want to join?"

"Not my fight." The white fox scoffed, "See ya Wilde, I'll be calling in that favour soon."

"Yeah, yeah adios amigo." Nick said as he escaped the dingy bar into the mild midnight air. It still carried a trace of humidity, but it was going to finally turn chilly for a few hours before the next day broke, he knew. It was with this relishing thought that Nick walked (he certainly didn't stumble) to the car park around the back, looking for the unique base of operations that was his destination. He found it parked between a big dark truck and a giraffe-sized sedan.

Sure enough Finnick's van was unlocked, but it had never needed to be. Most people on the street knew better than to mess with the van that had the heroes of a native Americas folk story painted on the side, immortalised in the guise of two fox lovers. Those that didn't quickly found out why. These rare incidents served as an opportunity for the diminutive fox to keep his reputation alive in an underworld that quickly forgot such things. Once upon a time, Nick had a similar hobby.

He opened the rear door with an exaggerated sigh, his weary frame complaining at the minimal effort required. Momentarily he contemplated catching a five-minute nap. But he didn't have five minutes. And there was a job to do, he recited mentally.

A black duffel bag was hidden in the corner of the vehicle, behind an old worn mattress. Nick didn't waste any time in changing into clothing more suitable for what he was about to do. Hoodie, jacket, cargo pants, gloves, and even a pair of socks. They had ways of tracking an animal's footprints now, and if things went wrong, he didn't want anybody linking him to the scene. All of it was in black and grey of course, and he fitted a baseball cap onto his vulpine skull to further diffuse the bright red of his coat. It felt empty without the big block letters 'ZPD' across it, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He was better off without it anyway.

He was done in time to catch another mammal exiting the bar. A meerkat he called Tim. His hunch had paid off; the rat was going to report to his supplier directly. It was a gamble that the dirtbag hadn't decided to make contact via phone, but Nick had rightly hoped that someone so professional wouldn't risk a data trail.

Nick stayed inside the van until he saw the short rodent climb inside a taxi and drive off. Only then did he dart out onto the street and hail his own, telling the driver to follow and waving a few bills around to grease the wheels.

The game of cat and mouse, or more appropriately fox and rodent, had begun.

It shouldn't have surprised Nick too much that they ended up in the docks area of Zootopia. Settled firmly between Savannah Central and the Rainforest District and a short drive from Downtown, this informal suburb acted as a secondary warehouse neighbourhood. It was a sprawling labyrinth of impossibly large warehouses and shitty storage spaces that were backed on one side by a mighty river.

Due to its abundance of space and the access to not one but two modes of transport, it was a hotspot for crime. Everyone either wanted to smuggle cargo through the district or dump a body there, Nick remembered grimly as he exited the cab. As such it was contested ground; no one gang held possession of it.

It truly wasn't surprising that the perp decided to store his ill-gotten goods here. Nick's eyes drifted in the direction of the body of water, where it flowed directly into the Canal District. He suppressed a shudder, it was a fitting location to close his crappiest case. After all, almost all his worst memories seemed to tie into the West River districts (The Docks, the Canals, and the Marshlands). But then he guessed shit luck followed him anywhere, regardless of the names on the map.

Timmy had entered a compound that looked more like a crappy motel than the storage space they advertised on a large neon sign. 'CHIP'S STORAGE CAVES' read the name of the place, and Nick skulked quickly towards the entrance.

There was no guard or alarm system, but instead, a tall security fence that the meerkat locked behind himself. Nick didn't hesitate in climbing it. The chain link made an audible crinkle beneath his paws but the Tim was too far off to hear it.

Tim made his way down a long hall of doors. Each was a storage space numbered from seventy-five upwards. With the cramped confines and lack of cover, Nick didn't trust himself to follow. It would be just his luck if he was caught spying on the crook, alone and without backup. A cop in this neighbourhood was just as dead as the bar he left Finnick at.

He watched as the meerkat stopped at a particular door, his hands coming up to knock firmly on the metal. The sound echoed through the air, almost drowning out Tim's voice; "Hey fluff! Are you in there? I gotta talk to ya."

There was nothing immediately, and Nick almost resigned himself to it when there was a sound. Tires rolling across gravel, a car door opening and a gate being unlatched. Almost too late Nick realised where the noise was coming from and he sprinted over behind a power box. Sure enough, the security gate was being opened and moments later a flush white van pulled on through, a logo painted on the side. It's headlights illuminated large beam as it moved, and Nick huddled lower in his hiding space to remain out of sight. Like a rabbit, burrowing it's way to safety.

The van stopped at the entrance to the corridor of doors and the engine was killed. Within Nick's sightline, he saw a hulking mass of a creature walk over from the gates and open the side door. He had no trouble recognising the species, even if they were more prominent in the Meadowlands than Zootopia itself because it was so similar to his boss, Chief Bogo of ZPD's Precinct One. The black bull was wearing a sleeveless top and baggy ill-fitting jeans, despite the chill setting in and Nick could see the prison brand fixed firmly on the creatures massive bicep. It was that of a horned skull with a nose ring held over crossed cattle prods and barbed wire. Nick knew the marking, of course, it belonged to one of the larger gangs in Zootopia. They were redneck hillbillies really, but they had a large number in prison and a penchant for packing heat, and they hated preds.

Any doubt that he wasn't going to play hero fled with that uncomfortable image. Nick preferred his internal organs to remain internal. He'd just have to report it in and let the heavy hitters like McHorn and Trunkaby sort it out. He'd fully dedicated himself to that course of action when he saw what the bull was pulling out of the van and throwing over its shoulder.

A sack was thrown over its head, but Nick could see a sparkle of blue and then grey poking out of the large burlap bag. It was someone's feet he realised, they had a body with them. Nick's gut clenched, somehow a robbery had escalated to murder. He had no doubt they were the guys he was after.

On the van's side were the tacky white letters reading 'Thumper's Tech and Repairs.' Fancy that, he thought with a sardonic grin. Little Ollie the Wally didn't mention he had a van big enough to ferry the stolen goods away from the store. A part of him noted that he could so rub Carrots face in this fact later, but it was drowned out by the fact that there was a fucking body right over there.

His nimble paw moved to his phone in his trouser pocket, ready to dial the ZPD phone number. That was when he heard the buck himself call out.

"Timone? What the heck are you doing back here?" The brown rabbit was hidden out of sight, somewhere next to his bovine partner in crime by Nick's reckoning. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't come back here until you sold all the stuff."

Tim's voice came out in a stutter, no doubt afraid of the hulking goliath that the brown rabbit had brought with him, "I know Thumper, but there's been a development- Whoa, shit is that a body? I didn't realise we were murdering anyone."

A snorted laugh and the bull's gruff voice retorted, "She's not dead, just unconscious, pipsqueak."

"At least until we decide what to do with her, Cowley," Thumper told them, and Nick's chest eased up a little. Perhaps they could still save the hapless victim still, "Now tell me what happened exactly Timone, what is wrong?"

Nick could imagine the flurry of hand gestures the meerkat made as he talked, "I was at the bar doing what you said right? Advertising our product and sold a few orders too. When out of nowhere these two guys from the old days appear, conmen mainly; but they did a few stints as fixers for the Murphy's and the Hispanic's."

Oliver Thumpers voice, Nick noted, had lost its shy insecurity and adopted a confident impatience as it said, "What does that have to do with anything Timone?"

"I was just getting to that. Anyways the talker Nicky, asks me all these questions about the phones I'm offering. It was all 'are these stolen Timmy?' and 'these better not be mafia goods Tim' kind of stuff. Regardless, I don't talk. I says to him, 'you want a phone go ahead, otherwise fuck off.' Then he says..."

"Just get to the point."

"I am, I am. So that's when he leans in all scary like and tells me he knows who you are Mr. Thumper. And he's coming for you on accounts that you've pissed him off."

There's a beat of silence as the statement sinks in. Nick couldn't help smiling at the reaction. Thumper's tone was uncertain when he said, "Hell, I've never heard of him. Who the fuck is he?"

"Nicky? He's a conman like I told you. One of those foxes that walked into the game straight out of Happytow-." Tim said with an air of nonchalance like it was an obvious fact. Somewhere in his deluded little mind, Nick believed, the meerkat thought everyone had heard of the foxes from the warrens.

The rabbit cut him off with a sound of curiosity, "A fox did you say?"

"Yeah, there's a bunch of them in these seedy pubs."

Nick could practically hear the gears cranking away. Seriously how slow were these modern day criminals? One plus one equals two, it does not make a fucking window. "Did he have red fur, green eyes?"

"You just described half the fox population there Oliver."

More certain this time, Thumper asked, "Do you know his last name?"

A snort, "Yeah, it's Wilde. Why?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Came the disgruntled snarl of a brown buck, and the eavesdropping fox feels a sense of pride with that reaction. Apparently he hadn't lost his knack for annoying people, "Nick Wilde. He's a fucking cop! He was working the case with Judy."

Of all the responses to that, Nick didn't expect to hear the manic laugh of a meerkat. "Nicky Wilde, a cop? Good one chief. That'll never happen, an entrepreneur he maybe might try, but he's not going to risk his own fur to slave the day away in a blue uniform."

It was the bull's voice, Cowley, who cut in, "Doesn't matter. I can handle any little orange pups that get in our way, I'll snap 'em like a twig."

"Don't underestimate Nicky and his little amigo Finn. They weren't in the Irish mob for their good looks, they had to earn their way in." That was the understatement of the century, Nick could still remember the initiation he went through to get into the Murphy's mafia. It was only by sheer luck that he survived that, let alone the resulting years. At least Tim had the sense to recognise it.

Cowley's voice was a lot less thoughtful, "Ha! Those leprechaun motherfuckers are nothing, all they do is sit around drinking. In _cuernos de toro_ we actually get shit done."

"Enough!" Thumpers voice shrilled out, "This is a serious problem here, gangster or not. Nicholas Wilde _is_ a cop now. He was at the fucking crime scene, and if he worked it out we're screwed."

There was a grumble of concession, "Okay but what should I do with this? Pop a cap in her?"

"Put her in the storage container until we decide. We might need a hostage."

Nick had heard enough, he quickly slid out his phone once more. He should've called the police straight away, but he hesitated, staring at the screen in front of him. There was a missed call from Carrots on his screen and his chest clenched. She'd been out on a fancy date and there was no reason for it to be there. Especially after how their last chat ended. But she might have called to apologise, or to help him, he found himself foolishly hoping.

Or maybe she'd called to say something else, three short little words. They'd jested about it before but he still found himself yearning for the statement that would set him free. But then again, hope was a bitch.

But she was his partner, and despite all that she'd said to him over the past two days, he still trusted her to have his back. She deserved to close the case with him. He might not have a lot of faith in the system, but he believed in ZPD Officer Judy Hopps. He dialled her number without another second's hesitation.

It was a second before another phone in the compound started ringing. Intrusive and out of place. It came from the same direction as the three goons in the hallway and he could hear the sound of their feet and hooves starting at the noise.

"What the hell is that?" Tim asked. Always one to ask the stupid questions.

Nick's call ended the same moment the ringing was suddenly cut off. Thumpers voice was oddly short as he told the others, "It's nothing. Now Timmy, go back to the bar. Keep an eye out for the fox, me and Cowley will..."

Then the three returned to discussing their plans as if it really was just nothing. Another random phone call. But Nick's chest had already clenched tighter at the realisation. He knew that ringtone; he'd heard it every time Carrots excused herself to answer a phone call. It was the one he'd set for her two weeks into the job when she wasn't looking. The electric sounding shrill had reminded him of the energizer bunny and it had stuck, Judy being too amused to remove it.

Any thought he'd harboured of waiting for authorities died with that sound. They had his partner, his best friend and dare he admit it, his crush. He wasn't going to sit around on his paws, there was no time to waste.

With the decision, his breathing starting coming in rapid breaths, the adrenaline was pumping. Going up against a bull wasn't exactly his idea of fun, but if going up against a German Sheppard in the ring at the academy taught him anything it was that _'anything was possible...'_

He reached into the duffle bag hanging over his shoulder, his red fingers quickly finding the cold dark metal shape that he was looking for as his mind completed the sentence.

 _'...provided you were willing to cheat.'_


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Judy woke up to the sound of her phone ringing, but no matter how wide she opened her eyes she couldn't see a thing. Dimly she put it down to there not being enough moonlight to shine through her bedroom window.

She was lying uncomfortably, but when she moved to swat at her bedside table, where her phone was undeniably place, she realised the problem. She wasn't in her bed, in fact she's was lying uncomfortably in a hunched over position with her stomach as the resting point. Also her paws were tied behind her, making that whole reaching thing far too difficult. The discomfort only serves to augment the drilling pain at the back of her skull, right between her ears.

"It's nothing." The voice jolted her addled brain like an electric shock, she knew him. His name was Oliver. Oliver Thumper. A rabbit just like her, but in no way as nice. Memories of the night flooded back like the proverbial floodgates opening and it was almost too much for her pounding headache. "Now Timmy, go back to the bar. Me and Cowley will take care of the rest."

A reedy voice answered before she heard the patter of departing footsteps, "Right-eo boss. See ya horns-for-brains!"

A moment or two later, a low rumble came from beneath her. She realised she was on someone's shoulder, being carried firefighter style, "Do we really need the rat? I say we burn him."

"He's a screen between us and the buyers. This way no one can connect us with the crime." Thumper said, his voice unnaturally calm. Judy felt an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face.

"Except for the bunny and the fox. He said he knows who you are."

"It was possibly he was lying, trying to rattle Timone's cage so to speak. I have a feeling he's grasping at straws. As for her, we'll have to be careful how we dispose of the body." Judy had to fight her body seizing up as the implication of what was being said set in. They were going to kill her, she'd die. "Put her down inside for now, we have to be careful how we go about this."

The pull in her gut as whoever was carrying her moved forward alerted her to the motion. She once again had to fight her body seizing up as a punishing screech sounded. She recognised it, of course, the noise of a roller door being lifted.

She was shoved unceremoniously onto the cold cement floor, jarring her shoulder in the process so badly she couldn't stop a huff of breath escaping her small grey chest. But cup half full, at least she was free to lie back and rest her back muscles in a way.

It was Thumper once again who broke the silence, "It's a shame really."

There was a snort, tapering off into deep breathing, above her. She was almost certain it was the mammal that carried her, "What is?"

"The officer, Judy was an interesting date." Thank god her ears were pulled snug to the back of her skull by the sack over her head or else she would have perked up at her name, and given away her status. "If it wasn't for that fox, the night would have been quite enjoyable."

"You aren't going soft on me Ollie? The plan was just to fish for information. We're still going to have to kill her."

A chuckle and Judy forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, "I know. It's just that if that fox didn't keep digging, she might not have put the pieces together. It's him we should be offing."

"I hear that." There was the sound of the second mammal spitting in distaste, and Judy made a mental note to sanitize herself. There was nothing she hated worse than spit. "What are we going to do with her anyway? Dump her in the river?"

Thumper made a humming sound, and Judy couldn't stop her curiosity piquing, "We need to be sure her body isn't found, otherwise it'll spark an investigation."

"There's already an investigation. I say we bury her in the marshes, the swamp will just swallow her up."

Judy inwardly grimaced, she'd heard stories (mostly from Nick) of how unsuspecting animals got caught in the sinking sand of the Marshlands, never to be seen again. It wasn't a particularly ideal way to go. "Perhaps we could interrogate her first. See how far the police are on to us?"

She could hear the crick of vertebrae as the large mammal tilted his head, "You want me to wake her up?"

"No need, she's already awake."

Judy's blood chilled and she forced herself to not move a muscle. Perhaps they would believe he were mistaken. There was the scuffle of hooves across hard ground, and then the burlap sack was being ripped off of her.

Her eyes were immediately assaulted by the dim light of a fluorescent globe, hanging by a chain overhead. Her head was propped up on some wires, snaking out of several boxes of gear to her right. The walls were plain dreary cement and the room bare. Aside from four crates eight crates worth of stolen technology that was. Any doubt she'd had of Oliver Thumper's guilt vanished like a puff of smoke.

"Ah I see you've found the stolen goods." Oliver was how she left him, wearing the same shirt and trousers from their date with the addition of a fleece jacket, "Well done officer, you cracked the case."

Judy's eyes bored into him, and she hoped Nick would be proud of her response wherever he was, "Screw you asshole, what the heck do you want?"

Swearing wasn't a past time of hers, but she felt the situation deserved it. Especially with the added pain of plastic biting her wrists, were those zip-ties?

She exhaled a groan, they _were_ zip ties.

"Now is that anyway for an officer of the law to talk?" His voice was still that strange calm, but Judy thought she sensed apprehension under the malicious grin he wore. He knew he'd almost screwed up in going to dinner with her.

Judy huffed out a dry laugh, "You obviously don't know Nick very well."

"Yes, well I don't think the fox really counts." His face darkened before Judy could come to her partner's defence, "Speaking of which. How much does your partner know?"

"What?" Of all the things to be asked before she was supposedly murdered, Judy wasn't prepared for that one. "Seriously?"

In a blur of black fur, Judy felt the impact before her eyes registered a hoof coming for her jaw. Pain blossomed like a bloody rose from her jaw, and she was left gasping like an asthmatic fish. Her lip stung and she felt the warmth of blood flow down her jaw.

"Answer the fucking question cop!" The bull snarled. Judy was bright enough not to spit the mouthful of blood directly at him, but it was sorely tempting.

"How would I know? I'm not his boss," She yelled instead.

"Yet you were on the phone with him before." Oliver interjected, "What were you talking about?"

Reluctantly Judy spoke, hoping she was buying time by being purposely vague, it might give someone time to notice she was gone. But she couldn't think of who for the life of her. She lived alone and her shift wouldn't start for another five hours. It certainly wasn't looking promising, "The case."

"Specifically?"

"The evidence." It was pure stubbornness at this point.

The bull was the first to lose patience, pulling his arm back to strike her again. "Why you little bitc-."

"Cowley!" both mammals turned to look at the brown furred rabbit, his voice terse. He jerked his head outside the small room, "A word if you will."

The bull –Cowley gave an annoyed huff, disappearing out of sight around the corner. Judy listened to the bull's hooves striking the ground until they were almost out of hearing; they obviously didn't want her to overhear. She wasn't surprised they didn't bother staying close enough to keep an eye on her, she was bound and sore. There wasn't a lot she could do.

It didn't stop her from trying.

She sat upright slowly, wincing at the exertion it placed on her sore muscles, and looked around. The crates were indeed filled with the 'stolen' technology. Laptops and phones were stacked neatly inside each. But there was nothing to break the plastic securing her paws. Her eyes drifted around the room, eyeing the shelf and a high rectangular window that broke the monotony of the back wall. It was too high up to be of any use, especially bound as she was. Her head swivelled back to the open garage door in front of her.

She could make a break for it; she _was_ the fastest runner in the precinct. But that would have required running towards her captors, a big no-no for rabbit abductees. Besides, she wasn't sure how fast she could run with her paws tied behind her back.

But it was perhaps her only chance.

She was so lost in thought she almost missed it. In fact she would have missed it regardless if it wasn't for her species' impressive hearing. The tiniest little metallic clink was followed by a puff of something landing on the ground. She stopped for a second, her tall ears alert. After a heartbeat she decided it was just wishful thinking, because there was no way anyone else could be in there with her-

"Pssst!" She was so startled she almost screamed, which would have been unfortunate, given the circumstances. Instead she settled for an awkward jump. In her defense the phantom voice had hissed directly into her ear, like a ghost haunting its victim. Her head swivelled around to be met with a vision of red fur. He whispered, "Hey Carrots, it's me. Nick. The fox, the one who was right all along."

Because Nick was indeed the type to say 'I told you so.'

Once she'd caught her breath, and decided that she was not in fact having a heart attack, she hissed back. "I know it's you, you idiot. Cheese and crackers! Are you trying to kill me?"

He gave her a smirk, "The opposite in fact."

She doubted it, what with his get up. He looked more ready to perform a burglary than investigate one. His clothes were all dark and long, hiding his red coat from watching eyes. In fact the only parts of his uncovered were his tail and face; it was a shocking transformation. Judy found her eyes drifting to the duffle bag hanging from his shoulder, and she had a uncomfortable guess at what it held, "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you." He threw his arms wide, gesturing to himself, "What does it look like? Come on, we need to get going before Horny McFuckstain and your good pal Ollie get back."

Judy was feeling a wave of confusion and relief, her emotions too much of a jumble to argue those particularly choice nicknames. Instead she asked another question, because damn if she didn't feel lost, "How are we getting out?"

Nick nodded his head back from where he came, "Through the window, same way I got in."

"Okay, don't suppose you have a pair of scissors or something?" she said as she shook her bound hands behind her back.

She'd meant it as a metaphor, but the next thing she knew he'd pulled a rustic chrome switchblade from his bag. Its point looked deadly, and well used. It was probably illegal, to carry a weapon like that around she thought. She couldn't really complain though when he moved behind her back and started sawing along the plastic. With a smirk he said, "Even better-."

"I thought I heard something." Both cops froze and looked up, like deer caught in the headlights. In the open doorway were two familiar sillouettes, one horned cow and one brown rabbit. The rabbit continued, "Mr Wilde has decided to join us."

Slowly Wilde stood up straighter as if to greet them, his hands splayed in an apologetic motion. It took Judy a moment to realise what was missing. He'd left the knife in her paws, angled in a way that allowed her to continue sawing at her zip ties.

"Did I?" Nick stuffed his paws into his jacket momentarily as he spoke, "Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom and must have gotten lost. Uhhh... I'll just take my friend and go."

Even Judy had to raise an eyebrow at him in disbelief because seriously, that's the excuse he went with? She'd really give him hell about that one later, if they survived. Both their captors stared in equal confusion, until Cowley turned to his partner in crime, "Am I allowed to pummel the fox at least?"

Thumper nodded, "Be my guest."

The bull cracked his hoofs menacingly, sending cold sharp fear shooting through Judy's chest for her partner. There was practically no hope for the fox that only came up to the height of Cowley's stomach. She wouldn't blame him for cowering.

Which is why she was as surprised as the others when he pulled his paws out of his pocket and grumbled, "That's so fucking racist," before attacking.

His paw landed first at Cowley's stomach, striking him directly in the kidneys. Even with it's opportune placement, it wouldn't do a lot of damage; her friends vulpine structure just wasn't built for brawls. But the bull reacted violently, doubling over in pain as he clutched his side.

Nick took the moment to deliver a second blow; a vicious uppercut to the creature's substantially lowered face. Cowley's head snapped back, and Judy was too stunned to flinch away from the blood exploding from the bovine's snout. Its hot crimson splattered her face, drawing her back to herself.

She remembered the knife in her paws that had stayed static in her shock. Cursing her foolishness, she continued sawing. But it wasnt easy. In fact it was awkward, what with the angle of her wrists. It was a slow process before the knife started to catch.

In her peripheral vision, Nick landed another punch to the dark giant and this time Judy spotted his secret. Metal gleamed over his knuckles and her mind filled in the rest. Brass knuckles. They were giving him the upper hand in the fight as he wailed mercilessly on the bovine Mr. Cowley.

They was _definitely_ illegal.

But his success didn't last for long. Seeing an opportunity, Oliver Thumper lunged forward and grabbed Nick's wrist as he pulled back for another blow. It stopped him from landing the next punch, but he only shrugged the rabbit aside, distracted for no more than a second.

And that was all it took.

A brief moment of interruption allowed Cowley to lash out with a hoof and hit Nick square in the jaw. Judy's partner was knocked back into her, pushing her over herself. It was a miracle she didn't impale either of them with the blade in her paws, but maybe the fact that she released it helped. The bad news was that she was still tied up.

She rolled onto her side, looking at Nick. His muzzle looked like something out of a slasher film, the red of his fur darkened by an even redder crimson. He had a broken snout at the very least. But the injury didn't stop him from immediately scrambling to get up again. Judy gave him an internal cheer.

Out of her peripherals Judy saw the bull's hoof come down on his arm, securing the brass knuckles to the ground before the other hind leg came forward. A kick to the chest and Nick went down again. This time he didn't get up.

"Not so tough now, are you motherfucker?" Cowley spat, his face as bloodied as his victim's.

There was a gasping breath, and Judy was relieved to hear her partner wheeze out another taunt, even if she wanted to throttle him for antagonising their captors at the same time. "Is that all you got? Fucking Carrots hits harder than you."

He added a rattling laugh, causing blood to bubbling from his nose. Nick was bleeding a lot, but he didn't seem to care. He just kept smirking up at the bull. That scared her even more than the damage done, he was suicidal.

"Nick," Judy said quietly, "maybe don't try to antagonise the bad guys."

"Hey, when you're the one saving me _then_ you can do it your way. Right now, _I'm_ doing it mine."

"Dumb fox," She muttered before the bull stomped his foot loudly on Nick's arm. It elicited a whimper from her partner and a clang as the brass knuckles fell of his paw.

"Hey! Don't fucking ignore us." Cowley said, "We're about to kill you here, aren't we Thumper?"

The rabbit was dusting himself off, looking smug, as if he'd one the whole fight himself, "Of course. But perhaps we should be smart about this? If both cops are found dead in this place, i.e. both lead investigators in the robbery, it will definitely link them back to us."

"So what do you wanna do?" Cowley asked, his foot digging into Nick's wrist painfully. Judy winced on the fox's behalf.

"Throw the fox in the river, he wouldn't be the first to end up there and no one will care enough to identify the body. ZPD won't bother to look hard enough anyway, he's only a fox after all. We'll have to be a little more creative with Officer Hopps though, she is famous after..."

"You're wrong." Nick half singsonged/ half slurred on the ground. Great, Judy's partner was delirious as well as suicidal now. But the loss of blood was obviously getting to him because she'd never known him to smear his words together.

Both criminals glared down at him, indignation at being interrupted flashing in their expressions. Eventually curiosity won out for them, Thumper asking, "And why's that?"

"Because people will care my long ears friend, in fact I know they'll investigate. I made a friend in homicide see." Nick's muzzle was set in a bloody grin, "a wolf by the name of Jesse. 'E's a scary motherfucker."

Cowley raised an eyebrow. He obviously didn't think much of any one wolf, or maybe it was just predators in general. After all, anything short of a big cat was hardly a problem for a cow his size.

However, Thumper's smug smirk infuriated Judy to no end, "He's bluffing. There's no way the wolf will know it's us."

"Except." Nick added helpfully.

Oliver rolled his eyes, apparently deciding to play along, "Except what?"

Judy heard it before she heard Nick's laughter. But perhaps it was because of her heightened hearing, or it was just something she'd been so desperate to hear. The sound was unmistakable, and so darn familiar. Sirens.

Police sirens to be exact.

Nick said, "Except while I may be new at this whole crime fighting thing Carrots dragged me into, I'm not stupid enough to run in here alone. Not without back up."

It dawned on Oliver Thumper before Cowley registered the noise. Perhaps it was that super rabbit hearing. Either way the brown rabbit panicked, his cool demeanour vanquished like an invading warrior. He fled, sprinting out the building.

Cowley, slow as he was, didn't take long to follow. Without even a look back at the imprisoned cops or the stolen hardware, he ran out of the door. It left the two ZPD officers alone.

Judy's paws were still cuffed, and she hated it. She didn't hate because it dug into her fur and cramped her muscles something horrible, all though that was a consideration. It was what it stopped her from doing. She was a police officer; she should be chasing the two perpetrators down.

All thought of a heroic chase stopped when she felt the shadow loom over her. A single drop of blood on her fur startled her into looking up. She had to struggle to keep herself calm. His snout was twisted, broken but it was almost unrecognisable under the plethora of blood streaming from it. Beneath all the red, a flash of white shined through as he opened his mouth in a predatory smile; a glistening pearly canine, sharp and pointed.

It was a prey's worst nightmare. And it scared her more than she liked to admit, but some natural instincts never faded. Her mind screamed ' _RUN!_ ' as his paws gripped her. He rolled her onto her side, exposing the length of her neck and opened his mouth wider. She had to force herself to keep breathing.

"Judy?" Nick asked, his soft voice bringing her back. His paws gripped the knife shakily as he sawed through the last of her restraints, "Are you okay?"

It was just Nick, her partner. Overcoming her fear, she found her tongue, eager to divert attention, "Yeah I'm good. What about you, you look like hell?"

He laughed, a motion that sent more blood bubbling, as he cut her free, "Thanks Cottontail, you really know how to flatter a guy."

Judy rubbed her wrists and rolled her shoulders, both sore. She looked up at the fox again, considering him and his ghastly visage. He meanwhile was scrabbling to pick up something he dropped in the fight, his movements slow and careful. The brass knuckles. Judy finally got a good look at them, and the vicious studs dotting the end, all crusted with bull blood.

"Those are _so_ illegal." She told him.

He had the decency to look embarrassed. But only a little as he stuffed it into his bag once more, "That's why I'm hiding it before the cops get here."

He was just in time too. Before Judy could respond, the sound of footsteps sent them both turning to the doorway. Officer Delgato came in, taser raised and ready. Behind her were officers Wolford and Fangmeyer, both of who lowered their weapons and their jaws at the sight of Nick and Judy.

Fangmeyer, ever the impulsive one, said what everyone was thinking, "You look like shit Wilde."

"You should see the other guy," Nick huffed.

The white wolf nodded vigorously, "Oh we did, he was trying to jump the fence. What the fuck did you do to him, he looks like he went ten rounds with a wrecking ball."

Judy cleared her throat, "You caught them? Both of them?"

"Yeah," Delgato nodded, "Detective Hunter is stuffing them in the back of squad car now. He called us in when he got your call, Wilde. And it seems you've located the stolen goods."

Nick was rubbing his face, tentatively touching his broken snout. It didn't look pretty, and Judy grimaced for him. Eventually, he gave up, breathing a weary sigh, "What now?"

Delgato gave him a pointed look but it was Wolford that spoke this time, "Now we get you to the hospital. You too Hopps, I'll drive."

"It's just a bloody lip," Judy assured him, touching the already slowed bleeding around her mouth. Nick was the one who really needed help. He would likely have a few broken bones at best.

"Same." Nick chirped.

Judy just stared at him like 'really? You're going to pull this macho shit Wilde?' But she couldn't find it in her to get angry at him. He'd saved her, and she felt she owed him at least this one dumb joke. With her own sigh she gave up and got to her feet. As she strode after Wolford, she grabbed Nick's uninjured wrist and tugged it after her, "Come on you dumb fox."

He reluctantly allowed her to lead him out of the room, but he was smiling. A ghastly manic smile that was more blood than teeth, but he was smiling. Finally he added, "Watch it sly bunny."


	16. Epilogue

It's five in the morning by the time they doctors are finished. At least that's what the large analogue clock on the wall read when they released Nicholas Piberius Wilde from surgery. Judy felt like it had been a lifetime regardless. The last she'd seen him, he'd been struggling to keep his eyes open longer than a few seconds and his breathes had not been easy and smooth through the curtain of blood that covered his face like a veil.

The doctors attempted to alleviate her distress, telling her that all head wounds bled a lot. But Judy didn't hear it as she watched the blood stain her friend's face an even darker red before they finally took him away to be treated.

Regardless of the species, that never meant well.

Judy Hopps herself was relatively lucky, the doctors had cleaned her split lip and diagnosed her with a concussion, and the whole process had taken less than fifteen minutes. She could have gone home hours ago. But instead, she waited.

Judy stayed to make sure, partly out of concern, and partly out of the overwhelming tsunami of guilt that was threatening to drown her like a child lost at sea. Not to mention the flurry of other emotions weighing her chest down. It had been almost too much watching Nick's doctor, an intimidating zebra mare, scolding the fox once he was lucid enough to listen to her lecture. The rant was something along the lines of foxes should not be fighting cows ten times their weight, regardless of their job and no Mr. Wilde you cannot flirt your way out of this.

Give her this much, Judy thought, the doctor has a point. Nick's list of injuries was as long as Judy's ear; broken snout, three fractured ribs, snapped wrist, two broken fingers, and a concussion. The medical bill was enough to scare anyone off from such acts of bravery if the pain wasn't already a deciding factor, and Judy was glad medical was covered in the ZPD job contract. Still she thought Fangmeyer's diagnosis was rather astute.

Nick Wilde looked like shit.

And it was all Judy's fault.

That's why she was standing at the window looking at his hospital bed, where he slept soundlessly. Thank god for the miracle of painkillers. Even though he was all patched up the doctors wanted him under another six hours and Judy had taken up a silent vigil. Frequent glances at his chart and the sleeping fox reminded her how lucky he was to be alive.

But still all Judy could think was that it was her fault to begin with. The message droned on like a broken record through her tiny rabbit skull. He was her partner, and she'd let him down, ignored him when she should have listened. Hell, he wouldn't even be in the hospital bed if she hadn't dated a person of interest, regardless of Francine's encouragement. She did this to him.

And if she wasn't guilty of that, she was at least responsible for treating him like shit for the last twenty-four hours. Some partner she was.

A small idealistic part of her wanted to wait until he awoke when she'd be the first thing he'd see and she could apologise profusely and tell him how much she love-. Okay maybe, not that much, but the idea was simple.

She didn't expect it to make up for everything, though. She had been a horrible friend, an even worse partner, and she definitely didn't deserve him. The guilt that accompanied was palpable, clinging to the air and staining everything she touched like a black mark that would not go away until she'd made amends.

But every minute that ticked by allowed a sliver of fear to grip her even tighter. It made her resolve crumble a little more each time with each passing breath. She couldn't stand waiting; she was never a very patient rabbit to begin with. She was scared, she admitted within the privacy of her own psyche, that her apology wouldn't be enough. What if Nick wanted to be done with her; to not be her partner anymore? She needed to do something, anything was better than sitting around doing nothing.

That was why she excused herself to the nurse briskly, and left the hospital, leaving an empty promise to return for him.

The start of the day's shift two hours later found her in her office cubicle, writing her report. Or more correctly, pretending to write her report whilst staring angrily at the calendar on the wall. She'd made a series of phone calls, reviewed the evidence, catalogued the recovered goods. It was procrastination, she knew but at the moment she couldn't care less; a rare act of rebellious spirit consuming her. She was angry, and sad, and bitter.

If she thought that the hospital was bad with its accusing silence, Precinct One turned out to be a lot worse. Here the quiet was replaced with hushed whispers and intrusive glances. More than once she'd heard someone stop outside her cubicle and peek over the cubicle wall to see ZPD's latest attraction; the bunny that was wrong; the officer who put her partner in the hospital through her sheer stupidity.

The stereotype of a dumb bunny was fitting.

Some of her co-workers had even come to check up on her, to 'make sure she was alright' or something similar, but their expressions were far too nosy. She'd ignored them blatantly, muttering an idle 'I'm fine'. She was entirely sick of the prying. She half expected Bogo to attempt it, but he'd been mysteriously missing all morning.

Adding insult to injury was the file Wolford had given her the day before. Nick's case report lay open on her desk. It was a testament of how well everyone knew her shame and Judy glared at it accordingly.

Judy jumped when three loud knocks startled her from her brooding, accompanied by an unnecessary clearing of their throat. She looked up, she hadn't heard anyone approach. Her eyes widened as ginger fur and slender canines filled her vision, she felt like she was seeing a ghost. She blinked to be certain, Nick Wilde shouldn't be out of the hospital.

But this wasn't him; the body was too large and fur was blonde, appearing orange only by the light of dawn filtering through the glass wall behind him. The stranger, standing at the entrance of her office cubicle, gave her an easy smile.

"I'm not interrupting am I?" he asked. Inexplicably, Judy found herself unnerved by him, defensive at the sight of the stranger.

He _was_ a stranger, though, she hadn't seen him before, and he wasn't from the bullpen. Judy was sure she'd remember him if he was. The wolf was tall and broad, but slimmer than Fangmeyer and Wolford. But that could be down to his lack of coat, his short dirty blonde fur seemed to streamline his form. And make him more exotic. Cautiously Judy replied, "That depends on what you want."

If the wolf noticed the irritation in her voice, he didn't comment. Judy wasn't ready to have another mammal worrying over her and asking questions, especially a stranger. Instead, he held up a file, "The Sahara Square case is all tied up and I thought you might want to know we're releasing Reynard in fifteen. In case you wanted to be there."

Judy sighed and deliberately didn't reach for the report. She looked at the stranger pointedly, noting the lack of uniform; he wasn't a simple beat cop. That meant no nametag for her to spy his identity from, and also that he was likely a higher up come to reprimand her, even if he was lacking a suit. Bitterly she asked, "Are you here to lecture me about the mess I made too?"

The wolf blinked and Judy realised it was the mammal's eyes. The piercing orbs were what bothered her so much about him, although she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. They were a sharp blue, like the ice atop a frozen lake; dangerous and cold, yet twinkling with the enticement of a winter wonderland dared you to move closer regardless of how thin the ice. When he smirked his eyes seemed to dance, like her question was immensely amusing, "Should I be?"

It was Judy's turn to blink, taken by surprise. "Everyone else seems to think so."

He stared at her and when he spoke his eyes were a little softer but no less calculating or amused. He licked his lips, "They think you need to learn a lesson, huh? The rest of your co-workers?"

"Uh yeah."

He nodded absently like that was the most normal thing in the world, "And what exactly am _I_ meant to teach you?"

Judy looked sharply at him, annoyance flaring. He sounded patronising, because how could he not know the lesson in all this? Her voice rose indignantly, "Where do we start huh? Trusting your partner? Not dating a person of interest? Putting the wrong mammal behind bars for something they didn't do?"

The wolf for his part didn't bat an eyelid, smirking the whole way through. He began tracing the lines of his paws before he looked up, "You done?"

When she didn't reply he continued, surprising Judy with his candour, "Listen, if you want someone to bitch about textbook approaches to law enforcement, you want to talk to someone else. It's none of my business what went on in your case or theirs for that matter."

Judy stared at him wide-eyed, only managing to repeat what had drummed through her head since last night, "But I messed up."

"Really? Good for you." The blonde bastard had the audacity to add a clap to the comment, "Now when you're done feeling sorry for yourself, you have two options. A, you apologise and make amends."

Despite herself, Judy nodded, feeling somewhat against that idea. It sounded like way too much effort. "And option B?"

"You resign and piss the rest of your life away in a bar, drunk and longing for your glory days like every other cop who gave up when things got a little bit hard. It's your choice."

Judy stared at him like he'd grown a second head, and not just from his rather specific hypothetical. He was goading her, trying to piss her off with that delighted smirk and eyes that seemed to dance. It was like he wanted to make her angry, to make her admit that she was a screw-up.

Finally, she growled through clenched teeth, "I am _not_ a quitter."

If anything his face lit up more, and he plopped the file on top of the identical folder she'd been glaring at earlier, "Good to hear. You'll need this for when you put your money where your mouth is. At least it's a start."

He turned to go, but Judy's paw shot out to grab his wrist, his short blonde hair was surprisingly soft underneath her palm (not bristly like she anticipated). She shook herself back to the present, "Who the hell are you?

"A friend." He told her ambiguously, before moving out of her grasp. Before he left he turned to look her in the eyes, his eyes dancing yet again, "You know I'm glad you're not going to resign. You're a good police officer, Wilde too. I look forward to seeing what happens next."

Judy let him disappear and sat back down at her desk. She could almost pretend he'd never been there at all, just a phantom of her conscience. It would explain those eerie eyes and knowing smirk. But the file in front of her was evidence otherwise.

She remembered what he'd told her, about Reynard. Imaginary ghost or not, he was right. She needed to be there because _at least it's a start._

She got to her feet and moved blithely through the building, making straight for the holding cells. The room was cold and hollow, reminding her of the asylum she'd once travelled to whilst chasing down fourteen missing mammals and a savage panther. Rather than traditional bars, each cell featured a wall of reinforced glass with four horizontal air holes allowing noise and precious oxygen through. It was considered more humane than traditional lock ups.

But Judy wasn't so sure, she imagined it was like living in a fishbowl, no privacy. Even the small bathroom area had opaque glass and a camera overhead for security reasons. She inwardly shuddered. She didn't think she could deal with that. Growing up with hundreds of siblings had taught her to put on a brave face, but she still valued her privacy.

She took up a post at the entrance of the room, leaning against the doorway, waiting for the officer who would bring the keys to the one occupied cell. If she wanted, she could go and get them herself. But she felt too vulnerable releasing the fox from his cage with no other backup.

Instead, after a moment to compose herself, she stepped out before the cell in question. Inside Reynard lounged on the cot in the corner with his eyes closed as if to suggest sleep. But the moment her shadow crossed his room the red eyelids fluttered open to glare scornfully in her direction.

"What do you want, _Officer_?" he growled, spitting her title like an insult.

Judy took a breath to steady herself. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't anticipated the reaction, "You're being released, we caught the real thieves after all."

"That's good to know." He answered sarcastically.

Judy shifted her feet a little, "I also wanted to apologise, personally. You're innocent."

He barked a harsh short laugh, his red face thrown back to exasperate the movement. Then he stopped abruptly, looking her in the eye, "Still guilty of being a fox, you sure you're not going to charge me for that?"

"Mr. Reynard, that was never the reason you were-." Judy hurried to explain but was cut off mid-sentence.

"Bullshit! You fucking jumped at the chance to arrest a big bad fox, huh rabbit."

"That's not true."

"Yeah? Well, then where the fuck is your partner, Wilde? He's not here, yet again. Is it because he's fed up with you pulling the same shit as last time; condemning us preds because crime is in our biological predisposition?"

Judy took a shuddering breath, his voice was a spokesperson to the guilt she'd fought with for the last six hours, "Please calm down, Mr. Reynard. Wilde was injured apprehending the real perpetrators, he's in the hospital."

"And where were you?" It was an accusation, not a question. Either way, it was not one she wanted to answer. Tricked, kidnapped and lying on the floor with her paws tied behind her back wasn't an explanation Officer Judy Hopps could bear to give.

She was saved the need to by the sound of heavy footfalls behind her, Officer McHorn stomping his way towards them. A ring of keys in his hands. He wordlessly acknowledged Judy with a tilt of his head before inserting the key into its lock. An additional electronic code was required, an extra security procedure against someone stealing the keys, and then the cell door slid open with a hiss.

McHorn explained the situation with as little words as possible and the occasional grunt. James Reynard nodded along but didn't stop glaring at Judy throughout the whole exchange, his cold blue stare driving guilty daggers into her small chest. It was then that the more senior officer paused, his deep rumbling voice saying, "Am I interrupting something?"

Reynard's eyes finally flickered away, and Judy found the freedom to explain herself, "I was just here to apologise to Mr. Reynard for his wrongful arrest."

The large rhino nodded as if he wasn't already aware of that fact. He was one of the few officers that hadn't pried at all since Nick's report got leaked, and Judy was grateful. But the good feeling was cut short when Reynard interrupted.

"Don't bother bitch. I don't need it. I don't need anything from you."

The rhino looked ready to knock the fox down on Judy's behalf, but she called him off with a slight shake of her head, "I really am sorry, James."

The fox shoulder checked her as he walked past, snorting, "You should watch your back Hopps, the city's a big scary place and you're just one little bunny."

Then he was moving out the room, a shiver going through her spine. She turned to watch him leave and was startled to find not one fox before her but two.

They were almost identical, save for clothes and eyes... and the cast and gauze that was apparently trying to devour the second fox like a parasite. His arm was in a sling and he stood too stiffly to not be bandaged under his shirt. His green eyes sighted down the single strip of gauze on his muzzle as he stared silently at the opposing fox.

The two seemed to come to a silent arrangement because Nick stepped aside to let Reynard past (closely followed be McHorn), switching his attention immediately to Judy. His green irises raked Judy up and down, and the rabbit felt herself being stripped bare by his gaze. Nick seemed to come to a decision because he asked, "What are you doing here Carrots?"

"I should be asking you the same thing Wilde," she huffed "you're meant to be on bed rest."

Nick grimaced, his muzzle shrinking back with the action. "I don't like hospitals, but you're avoiding the question."

Judy sighed, feeling childish as she looked at her toes. Then she remembered Nick's injuries, the injuries right in front of her, and her part in causing them. When she looked back up, her voice threatened to break, "I came to apologise."  
Nick's eyes widened and some of the seriousness faded from his red furred face. He took a step closer, "For what?"

"For... for being a jerk, and a bad cop-."

She was cut off when she felt his arms wrap around her, or more precisely... arm; the wounded limb was held awkwardly to the side. It took her a moment to fully comprehend what was happening. A motion on her scalp and she thought Nick was stroking between her ears with his free hand. But a breath tickling her fur corrected her as he spoke into the greyness of her head, "You, Judy Hopps, are not a bad cop. And you are definitely not a jerk, take that from someone who used to be one for a living. You're one amazing rabbit."

Judy didn't reply at first, content with breathing in the closeness of her best friend. She was careful not to jostle his injured ribs as she wound her own arms behind his back, barely reaching, and rested her head against his chest. And she would have been content to sink into the embrace, be swallowed by the warm feeling and never let go, letting the rest of the world continue on its own, sans one Nicholas Wilde and a Judy Hopps. Part of her brain pointed out the impossibility of the situation. She _had_ been a jerk to him for almost two days, and he should be furious at her. But instead, he was pulling her to him like he needed to make sure _she_ was okay. It was this thought that compelled her to mumble into his chest, "I _was_ a jerk, Nick. I ignored you when I should have listened."

He shook his head against her head slowly, ruffling her ears in the process but offering no argument. When he pulled away, Judy looked up at him in a new light. He looked tired, but better than he had in the hospital. His face was no longer the bloody cautionary tale it had been when Wolford, Delgato, and Fangmeyer had found them but cleaned and whole. He was battered from the events of the last twenty-four hours but by no means was he broken. It was beautiful in its own way.

He smiled, and Judy's eyes were drawn to it. More importantly, they were drawn to the pearly canines peeking out, and she thought about where they'd been a moment ago, on her skull. Perfectly placed to deliver a death blow to her brain, if the predator was so inclined. Judy was helpless, and yet it hadn't even bothered her in the slightest.

"Apology accepted, on one condition." He told her.

"What's that?"

"You don't let it get to you; I can't have my partner second guessing themselves all the time."

Judy was overjoyed at the confirmation. Nick still wanted to be her partner,"Yeah but... But I didn't apologize yet."

He smirked, that expression that was so completely Nick, and tutted, "Too bad, I've already accepted it."

Judy stepped back, her foot bouncing up and down in mock annoyance, "But that's not how it works. You've got to let me apologise first! It's the rules!"

"When have I ever followed the rules Carrots?" Nick asked.

Judy felt the smile touch her lips and she looked at Nick appreciatively, not sure what to say in return. There was something she could say, but an ounce of her self-deprecation held her back like a tether. It was then that she finally noticed the maroon folder in his paws. "What's that?"

Nick looked down at it with a shrug, "Oh just the case file. The chief handed me a copy when I was talking to him. Didn't you get one?"

"Yeah, I just haven't read it yet," Judy admitted, remembering the folder a sand coloured phantom had given her lying untouched on her desk. "Wait, you talked to the Chief?"

"Yeah, I had to give him my account of events leading up to the warehouse to put in his report," Nick explained, offering the file to her.

That grabbed Judy's attention, and she accepted the file eagerly, her curiosity piqued. As she scanned the words contained inside she raised an eyebrow at her partner, "The chief wrote the report?"

Nick nodded, a smirk tugging his muzzle. "He took over the case. It was him and Detective Hunter that conducted the interrogations with Thumper and Cowley. Apparently it was a sight to see because the two dirtbags rolled on each other in the time it takes to brew coffee. I'm trying to bribe Clawhauser to slip me a copy of the footage."

"I still can't believe he saw to it personally, I thought he'd be too busy," Judy remarked because yes, while she admired the Chief of the ZPD, she couldn't imagine him involving himself in a petty robbery investigation.

"Yeah well," Nick leant against the wall in her peripheral vision, inspecting the claws on his free paw, "the guy may be a hard ass but he cares about his troops. His words specifically were 'beating up Wilde is one thing, but no one kidnaps the Precinct's mascot!"

"I'm not the Precinct's mascot Nick," Judy argued defensively.

"His words Cottontail, not mine." He winced, rubbing his neck, "Can you believe all this started as an insurance scam?"

Judy furrowed her brow, reading faster. "Where does it say that?"

"Last page, where Oliver Thumper confessed." He placed a finger on the section in question when she reached the right page, "Everything was insured, including the damages to the shop. The idea was to make a killing with the insurance payoffs and sell the 'stolen' loot on the black market for an added bonus. No one was going to get hurt."

Judy wrinkled her nose ironically, "That went well."

"Yeah, when Reynard came into the shop one morning and they realised he lived close by, the two figured he'd make a good scapegoat It's been so hot these past weeks that Reynard literally shed the fur we found right on the shop floor for them to use." Nick explained.

"And then Cowley followed him home and nabbed a brick from his backyard." Judy filled in from the page in front of her.

Nick nodded, "A win-win situation. Our boys get their payday and there's one less fox from the streets."

Judy looked up, eyes searching for any bitterness in the statement. She didn't find any, but what she did see was worse. He seemed defeated, resigned to his vulpine fate; to be hated and mistrusted for the rest of his days.

Nick caught her staring, his gaze meeting hers and Judy self-consciously dropped hers. It landed on his lips, staring at the spot where his sharp teeth had been visible minutes before. Only this glance was a lot more awkward, tension building by the second. Nick seemed to sense it because he shifted away awkwardly.

Rubbing his neck, he nodded in the direction of the exit. "I should get home, there's a thing I... uh, need to take care of."

It was a lie, Judy knew. They had just been having a moment there, and he'd scrambled away from it with a half-assed excuse. But all she said was, "Okay, I'll see you later."

He nodded once, "Yeah, later Carrots."

And then he turned away, moving briskly out of the room. He didn't look back once but Judy's eyes were unwavering even after he had disappeared from view. In her mind, she replayed the scene she'd just witnessed, a game of what ifs playing that threatened to make her blush. Had they had a moment of friendship? Or had it threatened to be something more?

One thing Judy was sure of after this mess, after watching him attack a full grown bull, was this. Nick Wilde was a predator, despite her elective amnesia; her personal choice to forget that fact but society remembered it fiercely. He was a predator; shady, mysterious and so very dangerous to a small rabbit like her. It was present in the sharpness of his teeth and the clear colour of his eyes.

Once, she would have withered away from the predatory smirk that lit up his face more than red-fur ever could. She had been away from her home for too long and had forgotten her parent's long-winded lectures on the subject. Nick was a fox, and he was dangerous.

But, Judy thought with a smile as she chose to rush forward to catch him, she also found him beautiful. Sometimes, something could be both.

 ****FIN****


	17. Moving Forwards (Nick's Epilogue)

Officer Nicholas Wilde stopped in his tracks, leaning against the wall of the foyer and tried to calm his breathing. His heart thudded in his chest at a desperate tempo, punishing him for the almost-moment he'd just been subjected to. Then again the pain might be from his broken rib so he was being cautious.

Resting his head back he looked around Precinct One's atrium, taking in the scene. Natural lighting filled the beating heart of the ZPD like it was a district of its own, although the thick glass and insulation kept it at a neutral temperature. Everything was as it should be; Clawhauser was at his desk, using his phone idly with fumbling cheetah paws. Grizolli was flirting with a lioness from HR, laughing too loudly at her jokes and winking intermittently. A pair of wolves that Nick knew were coming off the night shift, looking tired and relieved to be going home.

Nick nodded to the two, Officers Fangmeyer and Wolford had saved his ass, along with Delgato, when the cavalry came calling on the warehouse Nick snuck into last night. Together they, lead by the mysterious sand-coloured Detective Jesse Hunter, had arrested the two culprits behind the Sahara Square robbery. Nick was lucky to have walked out of that case, broken and bruised as he was.

It could've been a lot worse.

He'd spent the early morning in a hospital bed, recovering. But when he finally woke up from the influence of the painkillers he'd been given, he'd made a fast decision. Alone and unattended, he'd slipped out of the building before the staff could notice. Though not, without nabbing his clothes back first. He had his pride still.

On a hunch, he'd returned to the Precinct, looking for his estranged partner. Nick wanted to apologise before the damage inflicted by his case report festered. He'd said something in there, acknowledged some concerns, under the premise that it would go no further than the Chief. He'd been mistaken of course (Murphy's law apparently), its words reaching first Judy, then the rest of the precinct. A day later and an apology was long overdue, regardless of what happened in the meantime.

They'd both made mistakes, but Nick's was of an entirely different nature. He could accept that. He'd made a blundering personal choice more deserving of an angsty amateur that the thirty-two-year-old mammal he was.

But as soon as he'd limped into the Precinct, Chief Bogo had appeared like a summoned spirit and carried him off to his office. After the legally mandated lecture against going AWOL (was it AWOL if you and your boss have an agreement?) Bogo had grilled Nick for a recount of his solo investigation. When he'd finally escaped from the Buffalo's lair, it hadn't taken long to find where the first bunny officer had gotten to.

He'd arrived at lock up just in time to witness James Reynard's release. The fox's proven innocence would have filled Nick with pride any other time. But the words James said to Judy had Nick's jaw tightening painfully like a vice to stop his own outburst, his poor muzzle resenting the abuse. It wouldn't do him any good and he knew Judy didn't want anyone sticking up for her, she didn't need some golden-haired prince charming.

When James had turned he'd been surprised at Nick's presence. Nick had noticed the foxes smile forming in gratitude, likely to offer some pitiful exclamation of 'thank you' but Nick had stopped the interaction with a sharp shake of his head. He'd flicked his eyes towards his shoulder melodramatically, the message clear.

 _Later_.

With a nod of farewell to Officer McHorn, he had been left alone with the grey haired rabbit. That's where the mistakes started. Instead of apologising for his own mistakes he'd allowed curiosity and concern to sidetrack him.

Carrots had looked beaten up, although Nick was the one sporting the actual injuries. But she'd looked tired, weary; dark bags clung under her eyes like sloths to a tree branch, and her lips were fixed dejectedly in a sad frown, her shoulders slumped in defeat. It was a look that didn't belong on the face of his bunny partner. Initially a whim, he supposed that was why he hugged her, pulling her into an embrace like he could shield her from her troubles. Because he couldn't stand seeing her that way regardless of any issues between them. Judy Hopps was a force of nature, the mammal embodiment of innocence and hope. She was the bunny who'd worked her little cottontail off to get into the ZPD and done so with an iron will regardless of the countless voices telling her she couldn't. She had a smile that lit up the world around it, a beacon of good in a grey and dreary city.

And there she was, shouldering the entirety of the blame like a yoke she had no choice but to carry. He'd seen in her eyes the thought process inside her brain; that she was damaged goods. He hadn't been lying when he told her she wasn't a bad cop or a jerk. She really was an amazing rabbit. He couldn't emphasize it enough. She was the exception to the rule; that nobody could be anything other than what they are because she was so much larger than the life allotted to her. Nick would protect that for as long as he could.

And if at times he had to hold her and keeps his mouth shut about tears staining his shirt, he'd do that. If only to bask in her aura a little longer before reality crashed back in.

Successfully he'd lead the conversation into safer waters, discussing the case with her. But at some point, he realised his mistake in being so familiar. She'd looked at him and he'd looked at her. His heart began a low chant, growing in rhythm and volume. It was a ritual he'd shared with females before, right before instinct drove them to do something stupid like kiss each other.

Forcefully, Nick had sidestepped the upcoming event and excused himself. Because there was no end to the list of reasons why he- no, they couldn't. That was how he found himself leaning his head back against a wall, trying to breathe in enough air that his chest wouldn't feel so empty. That was where she found him again.

"Hey Nick," the voice was soft and uncertain but Nick's eyes shot open regardless, "I know, alright."

She was standing in front of him, paws out in a way that was meant to be open, comforting. But the ominous nature of her words prevented him from relaxing. Know what? His feelings for her? His deal with Finnick? A hundred different damning details of his past? There were a hundred possible answers to the question, and each one spelt his doom.

His eyes caught on the red file in her grey paws, and he thought to the other red-backed file. Did she know someone had leaked it to the whole department? Taking an educated guess, he hustled to deliver his own apology, "Look Carrots, about the case report yesterday, I'm really..."

"Save it Nick," she slashed her paw through the air as if she could cut down that line of conversation with an imaginary blade. Or maybe it was him she wanted to cut down? "I'm not talking about that."

That was indeed ominous, and foreboding. Again his mind went through the list of things he didn't want ZPD's poster bunny knowing once more. An extensive list. Eloquent as ever he said, "Huh?"

"The doctors told me," Carrots started, "asked me actually. When you were under. They wanted to know where you lived, seeing as you were about to be confined to bed rest and all. And that's when I realised, you don't have a home address on your file, Nick."

Her words were soft like you might use with a scared kit but Nick resisted letting out a sigh of relief. She hadn't stumbled upon anything big, but it was still a touchy territory. So he lied, "I'm staying at Finn's."

She shook her head, "I talked to Finnick, he told me, Nick. That bridge I found you under, that's your..."

"Home," Nick finished, his voice turning bitter as he gave up the pretence. "Go ahead Carrots; Make with the troll jokes."

The bunny looked scandalised, her purple eyes expanding. Hurriedly she found her tongue, "I wasn't going to... Uh, I guess Reynard was telling the truth."

Nick reeled, taken back by the sudden change of topic, "About what?"

"How hard it was to move into his home."

Nick recalled back to the interrogation that he'd sat out on, where a brave little bunny went alone against a mysterious fox. It had been a complaint thrown amongst an argument to gain pity for the incriminated fox that Nick instantly forgot, but of course Judy Hopps had remembered it. She'd even thought about it enough to voice her concern.

Nick dropped his head, avoiding her gaze. He didn't like complaining, bitching about personal hardships. That's what people did when they couldn't hack it, but he told her the truth, "It's not so easy when you're a fox."

Carrots nodded, a smirk chasing her lips ironically, "So I have heard."

Uncomfortable, Nick felt the need to shift her focus, "Heck, why do you think Finnick lives in a van?"

"I'm not judging you, Nick." Carrots stepped closer, her height forcing him to meet her violet eyes. Hesitantly she placed a paw on his uninjured forearm, "I know it's hard for a fox to find an apartment. I was just wondering... if it might be easier with a rabbit?"

Nick stared at her uncomprehending, "What are you saying Carrots?"

If anything her smile grew, finding humour as her words went over Nick's head for once instead of the other way around. Slowly, like she was educating a class of preschoolers she explained, "My lease is up in a month. And you are always telling me I need to get out of my shoe box of a place. You need a place, I need a place. We should find an apartment together, don't you think Wilde?"

Nick stared at her, trying to wrap his head around it. He understood the question now, it was the answer that he was deciding. It should be no, he decided. If he was having enough trouble remaining platonic with her now, how hard would it be to stall his desire living with her? Scenarios ran through his head that made him glad his fur covered up any blush.

Long story short, it was a bad idea, they were two complete opposites. Predator and prey. Old and young. Good and bad. Success and...

That was it wasn't it, the reason he couldn't be her roommate or any other type of mate beyond that. She was a sparkling beacon of hope and success whilst he was stained black with failure and sin. Too many failed dreams and broken schemes had touched him, and like a leper he worried he'd infect her by proxy; turn her from a hopeful rising star to a forgotten decrepit just by getting too close. For her sake, his answer would be no.

He snapped himself from his reverie, looking her in the eye and opening his mouth, "I'd like that."

He froze, anger blossoming towards his traitorous tongue. But the look of happiness in Carrots eyes stopped him, he couldn't take it back. Shit, she even added a little air pump that was way too adorable. Damn it Wilde, not five seconds in and you're getting all doe-eyed like a fucking teenager.

He shook himself back to reality in time to hear Carrots speak, calmly smiling once again, "Maybe we can discuss it over a coffee, my treat?"

Nick shook his head, grimacing apologetically, "Sorry Judy, maybe another time. I really do have somewhere I need to be."

Judy's eyes widened and her face fell, it was clear she didn't believe him. Regardless, she accepted it with a brave face, "Oh. Well okay then, we'll talk later?"

"Yeah. Later."

She nodded, giving him a half-hearted wave, "Okay, have a good day Nick."

"You too Carrots, bye," Nick said as he gave her one more apologetic smile before turning away, making for the exit.

Outside it was beginning to heat up, but it didn't seem as unpleasant as the past few weeks. Perhaps it was cooler or Nick was just coping better, but everything felt a little more manageable now. Not even the grim task he'd set himself could ruin the comfortable mood he was in.

Now he had to go find a fox.

James Reynard was sitting at the bar nursing his fourth beer, a sensible first choice for a fox after a day spent in the slammer. He hadn't stopped to go home and change or shower before getting here, but the place already stank to high heavens of fox musk. A little more wouldn't hurt. It was kind of ironic that Nick found him in the first pub he deigned to look, but then the _Robin Hood_ had always been _the place_ for foxes. A sanctuary almost, under the watchful eyes of the patron saint Todd.

Speaking of which, at the bar, Todd raised an eyebrow at Nick entrance, puzzled by the time of day or maybe the cast on Nick's arm. Nick shook his head once and jerked his chin at Reynard's back, explaining his presence wordlessly. He was here to talk to the newly released university student.

He sat down next to James heavily, allowing the tension of the last few days to ease into the comfortable stool. Seated, the discomfort or his ribs and tightness in his shouldered dissipated. He cracked a smile in relief, but kept his tone serious, "James Reynard."

The blue eyed fox swivelled around to take in the sight of Nick, a hazy sway to his movement and a glassy film over eyes. He was apparently in the middle of the metaphorical one-too-many. James cracked a broad grin and clapped Nick on the back heartily, causing him to wince at the strain it put on his ribs, "Wilde! I was wondering when you'd find me, I have you to thank for my freedom after all."

Fortunately, James Reynard was sober enough to forget Nick's professional title in the shady bar. Regardless, Nick's eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone paying too much attention to the exchange. The patrons included a group of wolves crowded around the jukebox, a weasel and badger playing cards and an intermittent gathering of foxes, despite the early hour of the day. But they were all minding their own business, so Nick turned back to the fox and shrugged, "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" James snorted into his glass, before gesturing to Todd at the bar, "At least let me buy you a drink, I owe you that much at least."

"I was just doing my job, you were innocent. I didn't want to see another fox go away for something they didn't do." He said but didn't stop his companion from ordering the drink.

James Reynard glanced at him, a conspirator's smile on his face, "And if I had been guilty, what would your job be then?"

Nick paused long enough to look him in the eye, "I would have made damn sure first."

If anything Reynard laughed more and clapped Nick on the back a second time as Todd placed two fresh pints in front of them silently, "Hah, it's nice to think so. But, us foxes have to stick together."

Nick winced, but it wasn't from Reynard's hearty slap on the back this time. As much as he didn't like it, this case had become about species at some point. He remembered the words in his report, about his partner's biases and prejudice, and grimaced again. He was just as guilty of that as Carrots. He found himself regretting the report even more.

He decided not to voice his thoughts, opting instead to sip his drink. This propelled Reynard to fill the silence with his own opinion, slurring his words, "I wouldn't have been the first fox set up for something I didn't do, though. And if Officer Hopps had her way, it won't be the last. For all her protests of species equality, she's just as fucking rac-."

"Alright tiger, I'm going to stop you there," Nick said abruptly, pushing his glass away from himself. This is what he'd come to talk about after all, "Let's make one thing clear."

Reynard's eyes narrowed, but he didn't object. Nick didn't miss the way his lips tightened, though. It was a beat before he said "Okay?"

"Do you have any idea what I went through to prove you are innocent?" Nick asked pointedly. He was a little proud to see the foxes eyes move to his broken arm and the bandages peeking out from under his shirt collar. Badges of honour, Nick decided.

"No."

"Exactly, I risked my job and my life for you because I had a hunch." Nick watched James' eyes track the conversation, analysing the information stoically, already sobering. He continued, "I did all that for a fox I don't even know. Why? The fuck if I know, a misguided sense of duty maybe."

Now he leaned forward, tapping the bar between them to make sure Reynard was alert, paying attention, "Now just imagine what I'd do for someone I actually _like_. Judy is a lot of things, all of them good, and a good friend is foremost among them. You? You're smart Jim, and young, you've got your whole life ahead of you..."

Nick waited a beat, letting the fox process his compliment before he delivered the kicker. "But if you ever call Judy Hopps a bitch or threaten her again, prison will be the least of your concern. I _will_ end you. Am I clear?"

Honestly, Nick didn't hate the guy, he even admired him a little. After all the kit was actually making it through university, something Nick had failed to do. But a point had to be made; Nick would protect the good that is Judy Hopps, even if he went to jail for it.

James Reynard had gone still, his eyes flinty, all the effects of alcohol consumption gone miraculously. Finally, he said curtly, "Crystal."

Nick sighed, aiming to put out the burning bridge before it was reduced to cinders and driftwood "Good, you have a bright future ahead of you. Don't let this business ruin that."

"Noted officer," James drained his drink in one long swallow and slapped some bills on the bartop. Nick Wilde sighed again, watching him go. He couldn't deny a feeling of responsibility for the kid's misfortune, but he had to maintain his own course. He did know what it was like to be suspected merely for your red fur and bushy tail.

When he looked up again a familiar face was scowling at him and threw their towel down on the bar with a slap. Nick raised a pointed eyebrow at his old mentor, "What do you want old man?"

"I thought we had an agreement, Nicky. You don't come back without this girl of yours on one arm." Todd told him, his burly arms crossed over his chest. "Here you are with no girl, you lying little rat."

"I never agreed to that."

Todd hummed, "True. But I don't remember phrasing it as a question."

"She was busy. We caught the guy by the way." Nick explained with a shrug.

Todd leaned forward, propping himself on an elbow. An eager school boy waiting for a bedtime story once again, "Well at least give me some details Nicky, I need to know."

"Don't you have your own wife to fantasize about?" Nick asked with a smirk.

Todd made a motion of twitching his snout, "Yeah but she's my wife. As far as she's concerned one kit is enough. Nowadays I've got to live through your adventures- or should I say misadventures? Now spill."

Nick chuckled, the same old Todd. Then he smiled nervously as he told him about the new arrangement, he was still kind of freaked out about it himself. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't decide if it was for good or bad. "Well, she asked me to move in with her."

The older foxes eyes snapped open. "Jesus, Nick you have been busy. But start from the beginning man, I want to know the _whole_ story."

Nick gave him a curious look, "What the hell's that supposed to mean? I'm not some character in a narrative, Todd."

"You know what I mean Nicky," Todd waved him off with a dainty movement completely at odds with his brutish paws. Then he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Start with how you two lovebirds met."

"Well..." Nick rolled his eyes, hesitant. But there was no keeping anything from Todd the barkeep, he'd find out eventually through Finnick. So he let out a breath and started his story, "it was just another day in Savannah Central. I'd gone into Jumbeaux's Cafe to get a jumbo-pop..."


End file.
